


The Huntresses Return

by Cassplay



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Arthurian mythology - Freeform, Autistic Female Character, Autistic Harry Potter, BAMF Lily Evans Potter, Bisexual Hermione Granger, Black Hermione Granger, Claustrophobia, Conspiracy, F/F, Female Harry Potter, Female Neville Longbottom, Girl Gang, Greek Mythology - Freeform, Grey Dumbledore, LGBTQ Themes, Lesbian Ginny Weasley, M/M, Multi, Other, POV Female Character, Panic Attacks, Polyamory, Ron Weasley Bashing, Trans Character, Trans Female Character, Werewolf Biology, Werewolf Harry, lesbian harry potter, werewolf as a spiritual experiance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-14
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-08-23 10:10:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 94,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16616972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cassplay/pseuds/Cassplay
Summary: Every full moon at the Dursleys Hera Potter finds a way to escape her cupboard and sleep under its light.it's not until her fateful detention in the forest that she finds out why: she is a werewolf, and one who can control herself when transformed.





	1. Year 0 and 1

**Author's Note:**

> Expect updates to be sporadic at best, writing this alongside 2 ongoing series.

## Year 0

Hera needed to get out. She didn’t know where exactly to go, but anywhere is better than here. The Dursleys didn’t seriously hurt her, but a lot of things that they did seemed to. She couldn’t really explain it, even things that others talked about their real parents doing. She had been in this cupboard for nearly three days, three days since the glass vanished from the front of that snake enclosure at the zoo.

She was hungry, but after the Dursleys had caught her stealing food another time they had installed a lock on the fridge. What she really needed was water. She was so thirsty. Her head had begun to feel fuzzy in the last half hour. She needed water.

She gritted her teeth. Anger coursed through her, it had always been like this. The teachers at school who had tried to intervene came back acting like nothing was wrong. She had fainted in school more times than she could count. And here she was, about to pass out again. She exhaled sharply through dry nostrils, she had to do something.

Then the cupboard door opened.

She was almost too shocked to believe it. She gingerly pushed against the wood. It swung open. She looked left and right down the hall, no one was there.

She crawled out of her cupboard, hoping this wasn’t some sort of trick by the Dursleys to punish her. She tiptoed to the kitchen and took a cup from beside the sink. She filled it from the tap and turned, giving one last look before she gave into the thirst.

She drained the entire cup’s worth, then went back for another, and another. She held a mouthful in her mouth just enjoying how cool and wet it was, and then she swallowed and it cooled her throat on the way down.

She looked out at the window overlooking the sink, the garden outside was bright with the moon. She looked up, it was full.

Her eyes seemed to focus in on it, and a comforting warmth flooded her body. She put the cup down. She ran to the door to the back garden, she needed out, again. This door sprang open too. She walked to the centre of the garden and sat down, looking up at the moon. She felt something when she looked at it. A sort of warm, sweet sensation. She remembered feeling something like it before, but she didn’t recall where.

She almost heard something, too. Some small whisper.

She didn’t know how long she stayed there looking up at the moon, drinking in the feeling. She fell asleep on the lawn.

 

She awoke to the sound of her Aunt Petunia shrieking.

She was confused at first, where was she? This didn’t feel like her cupboard. This felt more like soft earth, grass, and the damp morning dew.

Then her Aunt charged out to her. She realised she was outside, and she was in trouble.

“Potter!” She hissed, dragging her back inside. “How did you unlock your cupboard?” Her Aunt’s hand clutched her painfully around her upper arm.

“Don’t know.” She said, squirming to escape the grip. She hoped that her aunt might think she had forgotten to lock it last time she was let out to go to the bathroom. She hadn’t forgotten though, it had opened by itself. She knew what that answer would get her though.

Luckily it seemed her aunt had concluded what she had hoped, and she was allowed to make breakfast for the first time since being locked in the cupboard. It was a Sunday, so she was to make bacon and eggs. The eggs always smelled good when they were cooking in the pan, but she always had to stop and take a long smell when the back bacon sizzled away. She hoped her aunt didn’t see her slip a piece of said bacon into her pocket to eat for herself after she was sent back to her cupboard with the slice of toast that they allowed her.

She finished cooking and was shepherded back to her cupboard. She savoured the bacon as she ate it, the texture was always a bit off, but she loved the taste. She ate it quickly to remove the smell and snacked idly on the toast, catching crumbs on a wet fingertip to eat just a little more and prevent her bed from being itchy.

Her mind began to wander, now the food was gone. why had she been outside last night? Why had she sat there in the garden drinking in the moonlight as eagerly as she had the water before it?

She scratched her head, on which sat her short red hair. Hair red. She sometimes wondered if that was where her birth parents had come up with her name. Hair Red. Haired, Hered, Hera? It was a strange name, she had never heard anyone called that before. She had even heard of some other Dudleys at school, but never a Hera.

Her aunt hated her name. Her name and her red hair. Although that might be because it just never seemed to grow. Her aunt had come home with a wig one day and declared that she would need to wear it to school the next day. She was absolutely dreading it, but by a stroke of luck her aunt seemed to misplace it overnight. Her aunt didn’t bring home anymore wigs, and Hera’s red hair stayed just as she liked it.

With her cupboard locked there wasn’t much to do. Her eyes may adjust quickly to the darkness, but that doesn’t find her anything to do. She was let out in the evening to go to the toilet and then she had to go back in.

She needed out again. The cupboard was too small. She felt a sick feeling in her stomach, she needed out.

The door popped open again. Hera opened it quickly and quietly and made her way to the back door, bypassing the sink and water this time. The back door opened too.

She looked up at the moon, still full, and felt the warm feeling flow into her. It seemed more than last night, she felt better, more energetic. She ran around the garden a couple of times but that only seemed to make her feel like she wanted to run more. So, she did. She ran until she was so very tired and collapsed in a star shape looking up at the moon.

She felt a cold wind blow across the yard. She didn’t mind though, it felt nice; she wasn’t cold at all.

She watched the moon for hours again, and fell asleep.

Her aunt dragged her back into her cupboard in the morning.

It was Monday, and she heard her aunt tell her uncle that they needed a self-locking mechanism for the cupboard. He couldn’t go and get it today, but he could on the weekend.

That night the cupboard door sprang open when she wanted it to. Her cupboard didn’t feel as stifling as it had the previous nights, but she knew she would still feel better outside. She made her way outside and drank once more from the moonlight.

There was a small black crescent on one side of the moon. She ran some, but not as much as the previous night. Then she laid down, on the final night of the full moon for this month and slept peacefully.

The next morning, she woke earlier than her aunt. That was surprising. Or perhaps not when she considered that she had gone to sleep rather soon after she got outside. She crept back inside, locking the door to outside, and she made it into her cupboard by the time the footsteps at the top of the stairs started.

She didn’t feel much like going out that night, so young Hera Potter stayed in her cupboard. She thought she should feel strange, but she knew that the moon would return to full in a month. That would be the time to stare up at it then.

 

## Year 1 Chapter 1

When the giant man named Hagrid arrived at the hut on the rock, she believed fairly easily that she was a witch. After how the moonlight made her feel, she knew that something had to be different about her, or everyone would be out on the lawns watching it.

She received her wand from Mr Ollivander for a mere seven Galleons. English Oak and Unicorn hair. He seemed almost disappointed for some reason.

A witch she might be, but that didn’t stop her from enjoying her favourite pastime. The castle was big, and she figured she wouldn’t really have time before breakfast to get back to her dormitory in Gryffindor tower and collect her things. So, for three days every month Hera Potter would pack a bag and make her way out to the grounds. She made sure she had a change of robes, her books for her first class the next day, and some food.

She had always been hungry at the Dursleys, but just recently she began to notice she got really hungry around the full moon. She usually managed to get some extra from dinner that night if there was something dry like sausages or a roast.

She made sure to leave her dormitory before the nine o’clock curfew, sometimes mumbling an excuse to the friends she had made. Like that she had to get to the library before it closed.

The feeling she got from the moon’s light hadn’t decreased in the slightest. It was stronger than ever. She thought it might be because Hogwarts was so far out of the city. She remembered overhearing her uncle watching a news report about how city smog was polluting the air and blotting out stars, he had said that that was ‘Labour party Hippy Talk’; he wasn’t here now. The moonlight seemed to soak even further into her, feeling better and better each time she lay down for a night outside.

she had made friends with some people. There was Hermione Granger, who she liked very much. She was smart and had big fluffy hair. She had become friends with Ron Weasley on the train there, he was funny, even if he did take some convincing that she didn’t have a lightning bolt shaped scar. Perhaps the comparison seemed unfavourable, but Ron was very funny, and Hermione could become a little annoying with her need for Hera to study too. There was also Neville Longbottom, although they hadn’t talked much, she still counted him.

She couldn’t tell them about her monthly excursions though. But she didn’t know why, for some reason she felt it would be bad if they found out.

And sometimes when she looked up at the moon, she could almost hear a whisper.

But the more she saw the moon, the more she felt there was something missing.

 

She liked a lot of her classes. Potions was fun, if a little dangerous. She had been going well with transfiguration. Professor McGonagall offered her some extension work, she was nice. She didn’t like herbology much, it was so smelly in the greenhouses, and that only got worse when they brought out the fertiliser.

Soon it was time for their first flying lesson. She had been excited for this, and Madam Hooch was really cool, with windswept hair and yellow eyes. Neville had an accident while flying and dropped some sort of artefact. That blond boy picked it up. Her anger spiked, she didn’t like him. She batted the orb away as he waves it teasingly in her face and punched him on the nose. She had gotten detention and was forced to sit out the rest of her flying lessons, but it was worth it.

 

Her eyes lit up when she saw the giant three headed dog inside the third-floor corridor. Her heart ached on their behalf, too, imagine being that size and being cooped up in such a small room. It was just like her cupboard. She launched herself into the room, hoping to grab the attention of the big dog. The heads tipped to one side (all the same side), as if contemplating something.

The whispers of her friends behind her telling her to come back fell on deaf ears. The three heads opened their mouths and Hermione let out a shriek, but she needn’t have worried, the only way Hera was in danger was of being licked to death. She scratched the three noses and hugged the three large snouts before saying goodbye and leaving, promising to return with treats.

Hagrid was horrified that the four of them had been sneaking around and found Fluffy. Ron was horrified at the name, but Hera, who was currently playing with Fang said it suited him.

 

Christmas brought about an odd occurrence. Although it was not the full moon, she ventured out into the castle itself in her newly acquired invisibility cloak, and while she was dodging staff and prefect patrols, she happened upon a strange mirror.

But it did not show her, not as she was. She was older, perhaps her late teens? She had the same short red hair, though. She was surrounded by other women, all of them hugging. She saw Hermione’s bushy hair, and long red hair that she couldn’t quite place. The full moon behind them, or perhaps the image itself filled her with that same feeling, and she could tell her mirror self could feel it. From the looks of it, so did the others. She watched them longer, taking in the faces. One of them had a round face she could have sworn might have belonged to Neville’s sister if she hadn’t known he was an only child.

“Sisters?” she asked the air. Was that what this group was? Then she noticed the… familiarity with which they held each other; perhaps not. She saw herself crane her neck over to Hermione and press her lips to the other’s cheek.

 

She returned the next night with Ron, taking care to describe the people in her reflection as friends. She wondered idly why Ron hadn’t been there, but pushed the thought from her mind as he described his reflection.

He did not describe a group of friends, or even what Hera had seen. He saw himself, alone, having accomplished all his brothers had and more.

She didn’t bring him the next night. But someone else came along.

Professor Dumbledore was there already. He explained that the mirror of Erised show your heart’s desire. He asked politely what she saw in the mirror, and she answered truthfully.

“I see myself, older, and surrounded by people.”

“Your family?”

“Not exactly, there’s Hermione, and some other girls I kinda recognise, but…” she said, stopping short of mentioning the kisses that occasionally passed between the people there; as well as the moon; that amazing, glorious moon.

“I believe what you desire is belonging.” He said.

“What do you see when you look in the mirror, Professor?” she asked.

“I see…” He said, starting quickly, then trailed off before continuing. “myself holding a pair of woollen socks.”

She decided not to push him any further.

 

## Year 1 Chapter 2

Her monthly outings continued, but she was annoyed when, in the process of relocating a dragon for Hagrid, that she got detention the night of the full moon. They were to go into the forbidden forest, which meant that the moon would be obscured sometimes. She couldn’t find an excuse that convinced Professor McGonagall to move her detention so she headed down with a full bag of food and the next day’s first lesson’s books, she figured she’d just split off from the party when they went back up to the school.

She, Hermione, Neville, and that horrible blond boy who she hadn’t bothered to learn the name of met at Hagrid’s hut for the detention. The blond seemed scared.

“There might be Werewolves in there!” he had said. Hera idly wondered what a werewolf was. But Hagrid said that there weren’t any in the forbidden forest. Their job was to find a unicorn that had been attacked. Hagrid lead the four students and Fang while carrying a crossbow. They had to duck behind a tree when a strange slithering sound echoed through the forest.

A horrible oily smell had just reached Hera’s nostrils when Hagrid pointed out some silvery reflective liquid on some leaves.

“That’s unicorn blood. The poor thing must be staggering around in pain.”

“That smells horrible.” She said. She felt a rush of sympathy for the unicorn, but that didn’t stop her from clasping her hands over her nostrils.

They moved on quickly, both Hera and Hagrid eager to find the beast and put it out of its misery.

They passed a herd of centaurs galloping through the trees. One stopped to talk to Hagrid for a few seconds.

“We know you track the slain Unicorn, Hagrid.” He said. “We wish you good fortune. As well as you, young one.” He said to Hera. The others students were a little confused, they had been there as well, yet the centaur had seemed to speak only to Hera.

They continued into the forest. After a series of splitting up, regrouping, etc. Hera, the blond boy, and Fang stumbled into a clearing.

In the middle of the clearing was the unicorn, and it was dead. They heard the slithering sound again, and a figure in a cloak emerged from the underbrush. It lowered its head to the wound in the unicorn’s side and began to drink. The blond boy took off screaming.

Hera looked down at the figure. How dare they? Whoever they are, making a mockery of this beautiful creature. She walked out into the clearing, the full moon shone above her.

She felt the change for the first time in her life.

The moon shone down on her, filling her with that same feeling. She felt her eyes change, they weren’t necessarily sharper or better, but different. Her nails split and claws pushed in through the nail beds. Her knees reversed suddenly, and she fell onto all fours. Hair was growing all over her, the same colour as the hair on her head. Bones cracked painlessly and muscles grew. Her face pushed out into the muzzle of a dog, no, of a wolf. She felt her brain change slightly, she could still think, but it was different, more pictures than words and slightly simpler.

By the time the transformation had finished she had instinctively shrugged off her clothes, and a large red and brown wolf stood where she had been.

The figure had been drinking this whole time, but then a howl left her throat. A howl of thanks to the moon.

Howls of other wolves went up around the forest, echoing her. She began to stalk towards the figure. It stumbled backwards.

Her sense of smell was incredible, she could smell Hagrid a little way off, stomping through the underbrush, the unicorn’s blood almost made her choke on her own bile, but the figure was strange. There was a scent that she had caught before, but couldn’t place from where.

She might have been more interested in the meat in her bag, but this figure was wrong. She needed to get rid of it.

She charged and leapt onto it, but it was too quick, a wand emerged from its cloak and a curse pushed her backwards. She turned back to see it. But it was gone.

She had chased it off, it wouldn’t hurt anyone else in the forest tonight, of that she knew. It suddenly occurred to her how very hungry she was. She didn’t take long to find her bag and poked her snout inside to drag out the roast beef she had taken from dinner. She though it was filling, but it could be better. She found some bacon further in, and that was a little tastier.

Her hunger had subsided a bit, and Hagrid would be here soon to take them back up to the castle. She sat like she had seen Fang do sometimes beside her clothes. Hagrid would be so proud of her for finding the Unicorn, and for chasing the figure off.

She heard him, Ron and Hermione approaching through the underbrush, it seemed the blond boy had found them too. She wagged her tail, eager for the praise she knew would be coming.

Hagrid burst through the trees.

“Hera? Where are ye? What ha…” He trailed off, taking in the scene with a large wolf sitting next to Hera’s bag and clothes, and the unicorn dead on the other side of the clearing. He levelled the crossbow at her. “Back!”

She tilted her head, why was Hagrid pointing that thing at her? He surely wasn’t going to- with a twang, he did. The bolt stuck in her side. She yelped from the pain, she needed to leave. She skidded around and threw a last glance back at the party before running of into the forest.

She ran. The wind whipped past her, she felt the same as when she was just staring at the moon, even though it was obscured by heavy leaf coverage. No, she didn’t feel the same. She felt better, she was free, this is what she had been missing.

There was something ahead of her, she saw it through the gloom. Perhaps the cloaked figure was back? She charged forwards and pounced. Her jaws closed around a rabbit. She shook it, putting it out of its misery quickly. Then she lay it upon the ground and began using her front paws to pin it in place while she used her teeth to rip its flesh.

She had eaten quite a bit previously, but the rabbit was so much better than the cooked meats. She felt the warm blood trickle down her throat and the small bones crushed against her teeth. The fur did tickle her mouth a bit though. She did not eat for long, the things she had brought from dinner had filled her quite a bit. She grabbed the carcass in her teeth and took off again, moving away from where she caught it.

She reached a large oak, next to a small pine. She dug under the pine, careful not to go too close to any roots. Her front paws scooping the soil out from the hole. When she was satisfied she dropped the rabbit in, and used her back paws to push the dirt over it.

She set off running again.

She caught sight of something dart off to the right. Curious, she altered her course to investigate. It turned out to be one of the centaurs that she had seen earlier, the one who had spoken to her.

She woofed at him. He turned, slowing, and waved.

“I see you have changed, young one.” He said. He turned and leaned down to let her smell him. “Was this the first time?”

She pondered for a moment, what did he meant by first time? Probably the first time she had changed into this form. She nodded, her ears flopping.

“I see you have eaten already, that is good.” He said. Then he saw the shaft sticking from her side. “Oh dear, was that Hagrid? He means well, and you will survive, but we should get you back to him all the same. Can you lead me?”

She nodded again, it was easy to know where Hagrid was, he and the three others were still calling out for her around the clearing. She started off at a slow trot, and he followed.

“I’m sorry I did not introduce myself earlier.” He said. “My name is Firenze.”

She yipped in acknowledgement.

“I am sorry we had to meet under such grim circumstances.” Firenze said. “And that your Lunarche was interrupted by… that”

She cocked her head and made a noise.

“Ahh, forgive me. I had forgotten you may not have been raised with your own in the old ways.” He said. “A Lunarche is the first full moon where you change.”

Hera nearly walked into a tree, watching Firenze’s story so intently.

“And the old ways, a series of myths and… cultures that we use. Before modern times, before modern wizardry, both our peoples drew upon the natural world for magic.” He said. He chuckled. “And if you believe the myths, we may be related, depending on your Patron.” he paused, but against realised that she didn’t know about any ’Patron’. He didn’t get much of a chance to explain, as they reached the edge of the clearing where Hagrid and the others were.

They had stopped shouting. Hagrid was digging a grave in the earth for the unicorn. The blond boy was leaning against a tree, and Hermione and Neville were sitting next to Hera’s bag and clothes, whispering.

“I told you, Hermione, I can’t think of anything that would have just left Hera’s clothes here without her.” He said. She was trying to get him to help her reason out the cause of her disappearance.

“There must be something, maybe she took them off?” Hermione asked. “What about anything like that?” Hera was about to leap out to them, show them she was still here, but Firenze extended a hand before she could.

“Let me go first.” He said, and walked out of the trees. He raised his voice. “Hagrid.”

“Sorry Firenze, got no time to talk.” He said, Hera could see from here that he seemed to be on the verge of tears. “I’ve lost a student, and I need to bury this before rodents start drinking from it.”

“Hagrid.”

“The blood needs to be absorbed by the trees to get rid of it.” He took a pair of shears from his belt and snipped off the tail, he moved to the mane and removed it similarly. He deposited it in his jacket.

“Hagrid. There is something you need to see.”

“The hair and horn need to be preserved soon-“ Hagrid glanced up. “I need to see something?”

“Before you do, please know that what happened was not your fault.” He said. “You had no way of knowing, and had the best interests of your students at heart.”

“What’re you talking about Firenze?”

Firenze beckoned to Hera, and slightly embarrassed at the blood from the rabbit dripping down her muzzle, she emerged from the forest. She sat down beside Firenze, lazily wagging her tail.

Hermione and Neville grasped each other. The blonde ducked behind the tree.

“Wha’? Its that wolf.” Hagrid said, confused.

“Yes and no, Hagrid. The moon is full.” Firenze said. “Young Miss Potter understands, I think, why you did what you did.”

She didn’t really understand, but he hadn’t seen her like this before (neither had she, really), and it was ok, she had forgiven him anyway.

“Hera?” Hagrid said, shocked. His face twisted in pain. “Yer a werewolf?”

She nodded. Her tail wagged happily. So, she was a werewolf, and that was what a werewolf is.

“Hagrid…” Neville hissed. “Where’s your bow?”

Hera saw his eyes glance over to it, on the ground a few meters away. He put his arms up and began edging towards it. Why was he going over to it? Why had Neville wanted to know where it was?

“I’m sorry, Hera.” Hagrid moved slightly further.

She realised what he meant, and lay flat on the ground. Head on the forest floor. Her tail very still.

“Hagrid what are you doing?” Hermione hissed, she had removed herself from Neville.

“Hagrid.” Firenze said. “Hera is in complete control. There is no need to execute her.” At the ‘E’ Word, Hera scrunched up her eyes shut.

She heard a crunch on the ground.

“Hagrid, she’s been good thus far, she was waiting here for us to get here.” Hermione said. Her footsteps approaching Hera. She opened her eyes and looked toward her. “I don’t think she’d hurt me.”

“I-“ Hagrid said, torn between wanting to protect three students, and to not kill one.

Hermione got closer, and Hera moved her head to meet the approaching hand. They met, Hermione cautiously stroking her furred snout. Hera liked the feeling, and her tail began to wag again. She didn’t get up, but did give out a whine when Hermione removed her hand from the snout. But then she began to pat her head, moving the hand down over her back.

“See Hagrid, Neville, she isn’t dangerous.” Hermione said. Hera opened her mouth slightly to lick some of the rabbit’s blood from her lower lips. “Did you have something to eat out there?”

Hagrid had paused in his way towards the crossbow, the blond boy had poked his head out from the tree, even Neville had begun to move to get a closer look at her.

“I believe you will be safe now, miss Potter.” Firenze said. “I will take my leave of you now. The night is far from over, enjoy your Lunarche.”

She whined as the centaur turned to leave.

“Do not worry, we will meet other again, most likely next month.” He said, and walked into the trees. “I will tell you more then.”

Content with that explanation, Hera turned back to where Neville was moving closer. He put his hand on her side and began to rub. It was very nice to have her friends patting her, her tail flicked back and forth quickly.

“Potter’s a werewolf?” The blond boy said. “And they’re still letting her go to Hogwarts? Wait until my father hears about this.”

Hera cocked her head to the side at the obvious threat. Then she caught a hint of scent. There was more meat here. She stood, disrupting the petting and walked over to her bag. She poked her head back in, probably getting blood on the inside fabric. And she pulled out a small string of sausages. Which she began munching on, but then she realised how rude she must be. She picked it up by the end and brought it back over to Neville and Hermione. She dropped it on the forest floor, and nodded her head upwards.

“You want us to eat?” Neville said, she nodded. He seemed hesitant, but Hermione picked up the opposite end that Hera had carried and snapped one off, she quickly removed the casing to remove the dirt, and offered the casing to Hera, she licked it off her palm. Hermione bit down on the sausage. Neville looked a bit green at the prospect of eating off the ground. “I’ll pass thanks.”

Hera picked up the sausages again and moved over to the blond boy, he tersely rejected the sausages too.

She brought them over to Hagrid. He seemed to be fighting back tears.

“I’m so sorry Hera.” He sobbed. He threw his arms around her. She rubbed the side of her head against his. She wanted him to know all was forgiven. He pulled back after a few seconds, she flicked her head to put the next sausage in the chain into her mouth. “And you’ve still got that ruddy arrow in you.”

He pulled out a great handkerchief and blew his nose.

“Sorry, but I gotta bury that unicorn.” He said, standing up. He moved over to the unicorn and used a small saw to remove the horn, and then rolled the unicorn into the pit. He used his feet to push the earth back into the pit, with some use of the shovel it formed a relatively flat patch of earth. “C’mon, we gotta get you all up to the castle.”

“Hera, I’ll take your things, ok.” Hermione said. She loaded her clothes into the bag and pulled it on.

They began to move back up to the castle, Hagrid leading the way, with Hera next to him, followed by the three others. Hagrid sent fang back to his cabin.

They had been walking for a few minutes when a white moth flew across their path. Hera woofed at it, and ran to chase after it. The party stopped, waiting for Hera to return. She did a few seconds later, without the moth, and they continued on their way up to the school.

When they emerged from the forest, Hera shot off running all around, every way she could. Being under direct moonlight again felt so good when she was like this.

The party didn’t stop this time, Hagrid said he was confident that she could see them across the field.

When they reached the doors, Hagrid gave a pained expression, and Hera trotted up to him.

“I can’t leave you here while I go get a teacher, but I think I might be able to take me with you. Now, you’re sure you’re able to control yourself?” he asked. She nodded, she had shown that his whole time, but it was ok. Hagrid nervously lead them into the entrance hall. “Everyone follow me. We’re going to visit Professor Dumbledore.”

 

## Year 1 Chapter 3

Hera listened to the tap-tap-tap of her claws against the stone floors. It was a funny sound, she hopped from one foot to another, she enjoyed hearing the happy sound echo around the deserted corridors.

The others walked alongside Hagrid. The blond boy on the opposite side of him from her, but Neville and Hermione seemed to have accepted that she wasn’t dangerous. Occasionally they would walk next to her, scratching or petting her.

Eventually they all reached a gargoyle set into the wall, Hagrid stepped up to it.

“Jaffa cakes.” He said, the gargoyle sprang to life and leapt aside. Hagrid gestured for the others to climb the staircase.  The blond boy raced up the stairs first, followed by Neville and Hermione. “You too, Hera.”

Hera also climbed, followed by Hagrid, and emerged into an office, presumably the headmasters. Portraits of old people lined the walls not covered in bookshelves, they seemed to all be sleeping. A number of small instruments puffed and twirled on desks around the room. There was a desk in the centre of the room. To the left was a perch with a large red and gold bird, it seemed to have woken recently and was now looking at their group of intruders.

“Hagrid?” The voice of the headmaster said from a passage behind the desk. “Is everything alright?” he emerged from the passage and took in the sight of the five of them there.

“Err… Not exactly Professor.” Hagrid said. “It seems that Hera Potter is a werewolf.”

“And this is her, I presume?” Dumbledore asked. “She is behaving rather well for one currently changed.” He noticed the bolt still lodged in her side. He waved his wand and a large silver bird rushed out of it, down the stairs out of his office.

“Firenze, one of the Centaur herd, said she can control herself.” He said. “it seemed to be true, so I thought you had better see.”

They continued talking for a time, but Hera found herself growing bored, so she went over to look at the bird. It watched her out of the corner of its eye. She quickly grew bored of that as well, so she started to wander around the room.

“Hera.” She heard her name, and her head turned to professor Dumbledore. “Can you understand me?”

She nodded.

“How long has this been going on, if you don’t mind me asking.”

“Firenze said this was a lune arc, I don’t know what that means but he said it meant the first time.” Hagrid supplied.

“That is strange, how could she have become a werewolf last month on the full moon?” Dumbledore said. “I know for certain that no werewolves, other than yourself now Hera, are in the area, and have not been for some time; so a bite is out of the question.”

“But she would have been in the castle last full moon, how would a werewolf get in here without you knowing sir?”

“It is possible certainly, but I have called Poppy to attend to Hera’s wounds, she will be able to tell us if she was treated for a bite last month.”

“I’m just so sorry, Hera.” Hagrid said.

“I’m afraid we will need to wait till the morning to question her further.” Dumbledore said, he flicked his wand and a large wicker basket appeared, covered in blankets and pillows. Hera looked at him, and he nodded. She gave a large yawn, opening her jaws wide, and stepped into the basket. She turned around a few times to get comfortable and lay down with the crossbow bolt sticking out into the air.

Dumbledore turned his attention to the other three.

“You have all been exceptionally brave in unforeseen circumstances, you each earn your houses fifty points.” He said, looking at Neville, Hermione and the blond boy. “However, I must ask you, both as your headmaster, and as myself, to not tell anyone outside this room about young Hera’s condition. We will be taking steps to minimise any future danger she poses to the school.”

“Of course not, sir.” Hermione said.

“Yeah, she’s our friend.” Neville agreed. Dumbledore turned to the blond boy.

“I don’t understand how you can let her stay here? Werewolves are dangerous.” He said.

“An understandable position, Mr Malfoy,” Dumbledore said. “but as she has not hurt any of you yet, I would ask you to not tell anyone all the same.”

Mr Malfoy looked like he was about to speak, but Dumbledore spoke first.

“I will be informing the school governors, including your father.”

“Fine.” The blond boy finally agreed.

“Thank you, for now I think the three of you should go to bed.” He flicked his wand and three quills began to write upon a length of parchment. When they had finished three strips, each containing the message tore off and floated over to the students. “These will make sure you are not placed in detention for being out during curfew, but they will work only for tonight, so you had best hurry back to your dormitories.”

The three left quietly, Hermione placed Hera’s bag net to the basket. Hagrid and Dumbledore discussed the situation quietly. Hera felt herself getting sleepy, but before she could fall asleep, the matron, Madam Pomfrey entered the office.

“You are sure she is safe, headmaster?” She said, slowly walking closer to Hera.

“Quite sure, Poppy.”

Madam Pomfrey easily vanished the bolt in Hera’s side, she flinched at the slight pain. But it quickly diminished as she felt her skin healing under the medical spell work of the matron.

“I have never seen a case like this, not even back in St Mungo’s” She said to Dumbledore. “Not in all my years has a werewolf come in that was able to control themselves. But then of course, they might not need to come in at all.”

“And Miss Potter’s record?”

“She hasn’t visited me at all this year.”

“Well, I think there is not much we can do until Hera reverts back to a human form.” Dumbledore said. “Thank you, Poppy.”

The matron exited.

“Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Hagrid.” Dumbledore said as a dismissal. Hagrid left with an apologetic glance at Hera. “Now it’s just the two of us, I will be watching over you until morning, if you wish to sleep.”

Hera settled back into the blankets, rather tired from the evening…

 

When she woke, she was back to being human. Dumbledore sat in a chair next to her. He had apparently conjured a blanket for her to preserve her dignity.

“Professor?” She asked.

“Good morning, Young Hera, you had quite an adventure last night.” He said kindly. “I will be back in a few minutes if you would like to get dressed. Wishy!” A small creature wearing a white toga appeared with a pop. “Please take miss Potter’s dirty clothes to her dormitory, and bring a fresh uniform here.”

“Yes, headmaster Dumbledore sir.” It disappeared with another such pop. Only to reappear a moment later with a stack of clothes. It set the clothes on the ground and vanished again. Dumbledore returned into the passageway at the rear of the office.

Soon enough Hera was in the new robes and sitting in front of Dumbledore’s desk.

“How much do you remember of it?” he asked.

“I remember we were in detention in the forest, then I changed. Hagrid shot me.” She said, she remembered how she had felt no animosity after she had returned to the clearing. “Then I ran off, I met Firenze. Then we came back up here and Madam Pomfrey patched me up.”

“That is what Hagrid tells me happened. And that you were in control of your actions.”

“Yeah but it was weird, like simpler. I was a bit hungry at first, but I had some meat with me, and then I caught a rabbit.”

“Why did you have meat with you?” he asked.

“Well, before I came to Hogwarts I used to go out and watch the moon when it was full.” She said. “I liked how it felt, and I continued when I came here. I started getting really hungry a few months ago when I did it so I took some stuff from dinner to eat.”

“That is quite strange.” He said. “have you ever been bitten by another werewolf? Or perhaps even a large dog?”

Hera thought back, she couldn’t remember something like that.

“I don’t think so sir.”

“How odd, usually that is how lycanthropy is spread.” He said. “I have not heard of a natural werewolf coming into existence for some time.”

He paused.

“And you say you were hungry?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Hmm. It has been postulated that werewolf transformations burn a lot of energy, but no studies have been conducted due to a ban on research of the type.” Dumbledore said.

“Hmpf.” Said one of the portraits off to the side.

“Is there something you would like to contribute Headmistress O’Gryff?” Dumbledore asked.

“Yes, headmaster.” The curly haired woman said. She spoke in a thick Irish accent, and seemed a little annoyed. “I’m surprised you didn’t ask me immediately. Were we not talking about my lover over the Christmas holidays?”

“Ah, yes. She was a werewolf, was she not?” Dumbledore said. Hera’s breath caught in her throat. This headmistress had liked a woman? No, had _loved_ a woman. She was one of those other people that uncle Vernon had raged at on the evening news.

“Yes. We had such fun, running across the fields.” She said. “What an odd sight we must have been, a Lion and a Wolf.” She noticed Hera’s look, and incorrectly identified it as confusion. “I was an Animagus, a witch who could become an animal at will. But even if I hadn’t it would not have mattered. She made sure she had plenty of food for when she transformed.”

“You haven’t told me of this before now?” Dumbledore said.

“I have, you forgot.” She said pointedly. “Or didn’t believe me, that poor boy-“

“Thank you, Aoife.” Dumbledore said pointedly. “Perhaps we have discussed similar things, and I shall shoulder the blame for that in time.”

“Suit yourself, Dumbledore.” She said, and walked out of her portrait.

“Very well, now there is just what to do with you tonight miss Potter.” Dumbledore said. “I would think it would be prudent for you to spend the nights of the full moon inside a small house outside of Hogsmeade, but with your control over yourself you would not be contained within the shrieking shack; nor for that matter would you need to be.”

“Can’t I just stay out in the grounds?” She said. She didn’t want to be confined to a small house. “I won’t hurt anyone.”

“I’m sure you won’t, but I will need to discuss this with the teachers first, to ensure that no one is able to slip into the grounds to interrupt you.” He said. “The less people who know about this the better. Please meet Professor McGonagall in the entrance hall at 8 PM.”

 

## Year 1 Chapter 4

She arrived back at the common room just as Hermione was coming down to do some early study. She dashed over and pulled her into a hug. Then looked around to make sure everyone in the common room was distracted.

“Thank you for trusting me.” She said. “I-“

Hermione cut her off.

“We should go talk somewhere more private, Hera.” She said briskly, but then added in a softer voice. “But you’re welcome.”

They left the Gryffindor common room and found their way to an abandoned classroom on the fourth floor.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about me.” Hera said. “To be honest I didn’t even know until I changed last night.”

“It’s alright, Hera. Now that I know you’re not dangerous I’m fine.” She said. “and it was your own secret, I had no right to know.”

“Thanks, Hermione.” Hera said, and pulled her into another hug.

“Being very physical, lately aren’t you?” She chuckled.

“Oh, I guess so.” She said. Hermione’s face fell slightly.

“Professor Dumbledore said you couldn’t have been bitten last month thought, I’m a little confused.” Hermione said.

“We talked a little after I changed back…” Hera said. “A few months before coming here I started using accidental magic to break out of my cupboard to go sleep under the full moon.”

“Sleeping under-“ she stopped. Her voice began to tremble. “What do you mean cupboard?”

“It’s where I slept, but not anymore though,” She said. “The Dursleys moved me into the second spare bedroom when my letters started arriving addressed to ‘The cupboard under the stairs’.”

“I- Hera, I, That’s horrible!” She said, incensed. “A cupboard under the stairs is no place to sleep.”

“It’s fine, really, and I’m in a bedroom now.”

“That’s not the point, i-“ Hermione said, her face strained. “You need to talk to Dumbledore about this.” Hera looked into Hermione’s eyes and sighed.

“Okay, but I don’t know how to get into his office, so I’ll have to send a letter or something.”

“Thank you, and please do it; for me.” She asked.

“I will.”

“What’s your plans for tonight?” Hermione asked.

“There’s a small hut where I’ll be staying tonight, not Hagrid’s, a different one.” She said. “I’m meeting Professor McGonagall tonight in the entrance hall after dinner.”

 

And she did.

“Hera.” She said by way of a greeting, rather stiffly. She looked around the entrance hall. “Do you have everything you need?”

“Yes, professor.” Hera said and they left the doors. The moon was not yet at its apex, but Hera could feel the light invigorating her. She followed Professor McGonagall. It was a while before she spoke.

“I’m sorry for my manners, Hera. I’m deeply sorry that this has happened to you.” She said, as if Hera had taken gravely ill.

“That’s alright ma’am, I’m fine.” She said.

“It’s a hard life you’re in for.” She said, and Hera wasn’t sure exactly what she meant by that. They reached a big tree on the side of a hill, and McGonagall waved her wand. A small stick levitated up to the unmoving trunk and pressed something there. The entire tree quivered.

“Whoa!” Hera gasped, and the professor lead her to the base of the tree. There was a small hole there, perhaps big enough for a student, but too small for a werewolf.

“This is the secret passage to the Shrieking Shack, it’s an abandoned house outside of the local village.” She said. “Follow the passage and go through the trapdoor, I’ll be here to meet you just after sunrise.”

Hera slipped down the passage and followed it to the end. She emerged from the trapdoor into a dusty kitchen. There was a fireplace over on one wall, a boarded-up door and windows on another. She sneezed, and looked around at the various wooden wreckage scattered around the room. It was very small.

She decided to reserve judgement until she saw the rest of the house, so she went upstairs, a large four poster bed was against one wall. This room was dustier still.

The time for reserving judgement was now over, she didn’t like it. But Dumbledore said she had to stay here, at least for tonight, so she returned downstairs and peered out one of the windows. The minimal moonlight made her feel slightly better, but it didn’t seem high enough for her to change yet. She pulled a book out of her bag. If she was stuck here, she might as well read.

She had been reading for about half an hour when she felt a tug in her mind.  She snapped her book shut, and pulled out the food from her bag.

The change washed over her again. Her bones grew, muscles too. Her legs became digitrade, she felt her ears ‘upgrade’. Her muzzle pushed out, and hair began to sprout. Before she knew it, she was the same wolf she had been the previous night.

Hera tore into the food she had brought with her, several raw steaks had appeared in front of her at dinner, and she tore into them now. It was far better than the roast she brought yesterday. She swallowed and left the remainder for now.

She padded over to the window, eager to let the moon’s light wash over her like this. She couldn’t see the moon itself, and that was disappointing, but there was still a sliver of moonlight coming in from on high. She tapped her leg. She felt as though she needed to run, but this hut was so small.

She charged up the stairs and around the bedroom. But running on this uniform wood, in a circle, felt odd, unsatisfying. She tripped down the stairs and fell in a heap. She turned to the door, if she could get out, she could run.

She walked up to it and began helplessly pawing at the doorknob. But her paws without thumbs found no purchase. She began clawing at the wood. She needed out, she needed to run, to see the moon. The door seemed to be made of diamond, for all the damage her claws did.

Out.

She walked over to the rest of her food and ate it quickly.

She moved over to the trapdoor she had entered through, it seemed just as hard as the door. And she couldn’t lift it. She began breathing faster. She needed to get out.

Out.

She charged upstairs and around again. It was no good. She could feel the energy humming inside her, she needed to run, to get out.

Out.

Out.

But there was no way out.

 

She quickly changed back into her robes the next morning and ran with tears in her eyes as fast as she could down the passageway. She needed to get out of that house. She clambered out of the hole beneath the big tree before checking if McGonagall was there. She saw McGonagall heading up towards her as she emerged from the tree, she ran towards her. She had to talk to her, she couldn’t go back in there again.

“Miss Potter!” The professor screamed, and pointed her wand behind Hera. She felt something impact on her back and she tripped.

Hera turned over to see the tree quivering, just like it had the previous night. McGonagall reached her. She crouched down.

“What were you thinking? I told you very clearly to not leave the tunnel until I was there?” She said, then she noticed Hera’s tears. “Oh no, please; tell me what’s wrong. Did someone break in? Did you hurt them?” She gasped. “Did you… get out?”

The word brought a fresh bought of tears from Hera, her huge, wracking sobs made her lungs hurt.

“No!” She finally struggled out. “Please don’t make me go back in there again.”

“I’m sorry, Potter.” She said.

“No!” Hera screamed, clutching professor McGonagall’s robes. “No!”

“I… let’s get you to the Hospital wing, Potter.” She said, trying to affect a comforting tone.

The professor picked up the too small girl of eleven and carried her and her bag up to the Hospital Wing. On her way she waved her wand and a silvery cat streaked off into a corridor.

“Poppy!” She called out as they entered the Hospital wing. “It’s Potter.” The matron walked out of her office.

“Dear Merlin! What happened to her Minerva?” She said, Hera felt a strange feeling, but it passed suddenly. Then as she got slightly closer, added, “Apart from the obvious.”

“I have no idea, she just left the passageway like this.” She said. “Before I was there, too.”

“Alright, onto a bed please.” Madam Pomfrey waved her wand and a nearby bed adjusted itself into a sitting position. McGonagall lay her gently onto a bed. Madam Pomfrey looked her over. Tutted a few times. She pressed her fingers to Hera’s wrist for a few seconds. “Nearly one hundred.” She straightened up and waved her wand, the curtains around the bed closed. “How do you feel, Hera?”

“I- I can’t go back there.” She said. “It’s too small, I couldn’t run. It’s dusty. I couldn’t feel the moon.”

“Ah. I think I know what the problem is.” She said. “I think it was most likely a panic attack.”

“I’m not sure what you mean, Poppy.” McGonagall said.

“Indeed, you mightn’t, Minerva.” She said. “It’s a fairly recent term, relative to us. I have been doing research into Muggle Medicine in the summer.”

“Ah.”

“For a simplified explanation, when a person is placed in a particularly stressful situation, a variety of symptoms can occur, including shortness of breath, raised pulse, and dilated pupils.” She said, and gestured for the professor to take a look at Hera’s eyes.

“Ah, I see.”

“As for the situation itself.” Madam Pomfrey shook her head. “it is my professional opinion that miss Potter should never have been made to sleep in the Shrieking Shack in the first place. She was perfectly well behaved when I attended to her the day before yesterday.”

“The headmaster said it was for the best until he could talk to the governors.” She said. She turned her attention to Hera. “I’m deeply sorry that you had to go through that, Hera.”

Hera sniffed. They heard a knock at the curtain. Madam Pomfrey waved her wand and Dumbledore was allowed to enter.

“Minerva, I came as quickly as I could.” He said, then looked at Hera. “What has happened?”

“Headmaster if you will follow me into my office.” Madam Pomfrey said, and stewarded the two others out. “We will return shortly, miss Potter.”

Hera sat there for a few minutes, toying with the sheets and her bag, she was starting to feel a lot calmer now. She hoped silently that Madam Pomfrey would be able to convince them that she didn’t need to go back to the Shrieking Shack that night. She felt her heart trip with fear at the thought of that place.

Soon enough, the curtains pulled back again, and the three adults entered. She looked up fearfully.

“Don’t worry, Hera, we aren’t going to force you to stay in the Shrieking shack again.” McGonagall said.

“I can see now that that was a mistake on my part.” Dumbledore said. “Given your ability to control yourself while changed, we will be permitting you to have free roam of the grounds.”

“Thank you, sir.” Hera said, she smiled. “I- I can’t tell you how relieved I am.”

“I have organised a meeting with the school Governors tonight.” He said, smiling kindly back at her. “Would we perhaps be able to visit you in the grounds, so they can see you are in control?”

“Yes, of course!” she said.

“And Hera, I am very sorry that I did not understand what you were going through in there.” McGonagall said. “It’s taking a bit of getting used to, thinking a werewolf can control themselves when transformed.”

“Thanks Professor.” Hera said. The Hera paused. “Do you think other people will react like that?”

“It is overwhelmingly likely.” She said. “Even your friend Mr Weasley would perhaps be better off, no knowing.”

“Oh, ok.” She had been thinking of Ron specifically.

“I will meet you in the entrance hall at eight again tonight, Hera.” McGonagall said. “And if there’s nothing else, I think we should be getting down to breakfast.”

“Almost, Minerva.” Madam Pomfrey said. Then she turned to Hera. “I would like to meet me here tomorrow night, so I can assist you with strategies to prevent or recover from panic attacks by yourself.”

“Thank you, Madam Pomfrey.” She said. She was breathing easier, and she was feeling almost back to normal now. Perhaps it was just because she was very hungry?

 

“Oh, Professor Dumbledore!” She realised. “Hermione made me promise to tell you that the Dursleys had made me sleep in the cupboard under the stairs until I got my Hogwarts letter addressed to me there.”

Both teachers froze, then Dumbledore spoke.

“I will deal with this, Minerva.” He said, an alien undertone in his voice.

 

Dumbledore split off from them soon after they left the Hospital wing and she accompanied McGonagall down to breakfast.

Most of the school was there, already eating their breakfast. Hera rushed over to Ron and Hermione.

“Hi Hera.” Ron said in between mouthfuls of bacon.

“Hi Ron.” She said, and pulled up some bacon of her own.

“Hera…” Hermione said slowly. “How did you go with McGonagall’s lesson last night?”

“Wha-? Oh, that lesson.” She said, realising she was speaking in code. “Not good at all, we decided to switch to the method we were originally using for tonight’s lesson.”

“If you’re sure.” Hermione smiled.

“I’m sure.” Hera smiled back.

 

## Year 1 Chapter 5

Hera eagerly made her way to the entrance hall after dinner. The raw steaks had appeared in front of her again, and she was able to sneak them into her bag. She hoped she would have more of a chance to enjoy them this night.

Professor McGonagall was there to escort her out, and this time she led her over to the stone circle just uphill from Hagrid’s hut.

“I’ll be fine from here Professor.” Hera said, and looked up. The moon was shining down on her. The feeling that she had missed last night returned. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply.

“Good evening, Miss Potter.” She said, then added. “The headmaster told me that if he requires your presence with the governors that he will send up gold sparks.” Hera nodded, and sat down in the grass. McGonagall departed back to the castle.

Hera only had to wait a few minutes this time, but she didn’t have time to ponder if it was the effect of the direct moonlight, compared to the ambient moonlight in the Shack.

She took the meat out of her bag and felt the change. It felt easier than the previous night. Soon she was a wolf on all fours, snapping down the steaks.

She sat up and let out a howl at the moon. She felt it’s light within her.

She pushed her clothes over next to her bag, in the shadow of one of the standing stones. She turned suddenly, she smelt something on the air. An animal, small, furry. She shot off after it.

Something darted away in front of her, it was long and thin. She chased it into the forest, dodging trees left, right, and the occasional one below. She chased the thing and soon she was close enough…

She leapt, only for the thing to veer to the left, she scrambled to change course too, and just managed before tripping. She had lost ground, though. She ran.

She continued the pursuit, she could tell that the thin was tiring now, but she could run for hours. But up ahead, she saw a hole.

A burrow.

She ran faster, trying to catch the thing, she dived after it. It was too quick, I wiggled into the burrow before she could grab onto it. She growled angrily, and stuck her snout into the burrow, snapping at the air. She backed off.

Let it think it was safe for now…

She saw movement in the hole and her front leg shot into the darkness. Her paw landed on fur and skin. She moved it slightly, hoping to scoop the thing out of its burrow. She could feel it being dragged out, and she opened her jaws, hoping to tempt a foolish escape attempt.

She felt a sting on her forelimb, and let out a yelp. She batted at the thing and it stilled slightly. She managed to scoop it out of the hole, and saw it was a stoat. Her jaws clasped around its neck and she shook it.

It was delicious. She ate the whole thing, there was no leftovers for the trees this time, she pushed the bony carcass back into the burrow.

Her need for food and the hunt sated, she began to move towards the edge of the forest at a trot.

She saw gold sparks shoot up as she left the forest, and remembered that that was the signal that Dumbledore wanted to see her.

She took off running towards the sparks.

Eventually thirteen wizards came into view. She slowed as she approached them.

“This is the student, Albus?” said a red-haired wizard who reminded her of Ron.

“It is indeed, Ignatius.” The headmaster said. She reached them and turned on the spot a few times, before lying down. “As you can see, they are completely docile and in control.”

“Docile mayhap, but…” Said a black-haired wizard. “How can we know they are in control?”

“A reasonable question, Perseus.” Dumbledore said. “Would you like to ask them to do something?”

“How about…” the wizard paused to think for a second. “tap your paw on the ground three times.” She did so, and Perseus’ eyebrows raised. “Well, I am convinced.”

“Whether the beast is in control now makes no difference.” Said a wizard with long silvery blond hair, he looked a little like the blond boy, Mr Malfoy, from the forest. “The beast must be slaughtered immediately.”

“That is most unnecessary, Lord Malfoy.” Dumbledore said. “As you may be aware from your father’s tenure as a school Governor, he approved the education of a young werewolf on campus.”

“That is quite impossible.” Lord Malfoy said.

“I have the minutes from that exact meeting, and although the name of the student has been expunged for privacy reasons, Abraxas did acquiesce to the requests from the rest of the board.” Dumbledore countered. “And in that case the werewolf was not able to control themselves when transformed.”

This seemed to shut Lord Malfoy up, although he showed signs of grumbling.

“So, if that covers everything…” Dumbledore said. “Shall we head back up to the castle to vote?”

“Yes, I believe so.” The red-haired Wizard said.

“Very well, thank you for your participation, young student, you may go back to your running.” Dumbledore said. Hera yipped and turned, walking off to find a place to lie down.

She eventually settled next to her bag in the stone circle. She sent a last howl of thanks to the moon, and fell asleep, content.

 

The next morning, Hera awoke after a restful night sleep. She dressed and made her way up to the castle. Although moon would not return to full for another month, she knew she could go back to her usual schedule when it came.

But there was also the matter of the Philosopher’s Stone. They had just been down to visit Hagrid after their last exam when he accidently let slip that Norbert’s original owner had gotten a few answers out of him about fluffy.

That confirmed it, someone would be going after the stone, and soon. They took their suspicions to McGonagall, but she only made them panic further, as Dumbledore had taken off for the ministry in London.

It was Hermione who figured it out. Lord Voldemort was responsible, Dumbledore was the only one he had ever feared, and he must be going after the stone that night.

 

They ventured forth: Hera, Hermione, Neville, and Ron. Hera calmed fluffy, the cause of their canine connection now revealed (except to Ron), Neville knew Devil’s Snare. The flying keys were difficult, but with four of them led by the only competent flier, Ron, they managed to beat them too. Unfortunately, despite Ron’s stellar chess skill, both he and Neville were taken to set up a checkmate for Hera. Hermione went backwards from Snape’s logic puzzle, and Hera went forwards.

Quirrell was there, Voldemort’s presence on the back of his head was revealed. She saw herself in the mirror of Erised, still surrounded by the women, slip the philosopher’s stone into her pocket.

Voldemort Commanded that Quirrell take it from her. His hands closed around her neck, squeezing hard. Hera felt a shadow of her wolfish instincts well up from deep inside her. She kneed him in the groin, and his grip loosened for a second, allowing her to reverse their positions, she began beating his face, punch after punch.

He grabbed her arms as she was about to deliver a blow; she used the point as a pivot and dove towards his neck, blunt human teeth not nearly as effective as her fangs. But they still broke skin. Blood exploded into her mouth, she had hit an artery. Quirrell’s grip loosened again, and she resumed punching until he wasn’t moving.

She rolled off him and spat out the foul-tasting blood. As she lay there, Quirrell’s body crumbled to dust. She moved over, just as the spectre of Lord Voldemort exited the ashes. It passed through her and flew away.

Hera felt her vision fading, and while she struggled to hold onto consciousness, she could hear someone calling her name.

“Hera. Hera. Hera.” It was familiar, but panicked unlike she had heard it before. She passed out.

 

“Hera.” Another voice, one that she didn’t recognise, called to her. “My brave little wolf.”

 

She woke up in the hospital wing.

Dumbledore was there.

“Professor!” she tried to sit up in bed, but found that doing so made her head pound terribly. “Ow…”

“Ah, Hera.” He said. “You gave us all quite a scare. Madam Pomfrey wasn’t sure when you were going to wake up.”

“Is it all okay, sir?” she asked. “Voldemort didn’t get the stone, did he?”

“No, he did not, you did quite a good job at preventing that.” He smiled, his eyes twinkling slightly. “The stone is, however, to be destroyed.”

“What?”

“Me and Mr Flamel have decided it is for the best.” Dumbledore said, solemnly. Hera’s face drooped into a frown. “Do not be sorry, my dear girl, He and his wife have enough Elixir to set their affairs in order before they die.”

“Oh, ok.” She wasn’t sure what she should say to that.

“Hera?” Dumbledore asked. “I don’t suppose that you saw anything strange happen to Professor Quirrell when he tried to hurt you?”

“No, nothing I can think of, Professor.” She said, and it was the truth, why would something happen? “Was something supposed to?”

“I thought perhaps…” he started. “Nevermind.”

“Is it about me, sir?” She asked.

“Yes,” he said, then seemingly resolved to explain his former hypothesis. “On the night your parents died, I believe that your mother died to save you, she tried reasoning with Lord Voldemort, offered herself instead of you. Lord Voldemort killed her.”

“And then he tried to kill me?”

“Yes, but I believe that you were protected by love.” Dumbledore said.

“Love?” she asked, not understanding in the slightest.

“Yes, love. I believed that your mother’s sacrifice had instilled a protection against Lord Voldemort into your blood.” He said.

“So that’s why he couldn’t kill me?”

“Perhaps, but the lack of any reaction in your encounter with Quirrell makes me doubt it.”

“But you said it gave protection against Voldemort,” she said. “That might not count for Professor Quirrell.” Dumbledore raised his eyebrows.

“Indeed, it might not,” He said. “I had expected it to, with Quirrell sharing body and soul with Voldemort, but perhaps not.”

They talked for a little longer. About why Voldemort was after the Stone, what the trick to the mirror of Erised was, and finally, what happened after Hera blacked out.

“I…” Hera screwed up her face, trying to recall the memory from when she had passed out. “I think there was someone calling to me.”

“Curious.” He whispered. Then brightened suddenly. “Well, you have been sent quite a few presents from your fellow students. I hope you don’t mind if I help myself to one of these ‘Every Flavour Beans’?”

“Not at all, I don’t really like them.” She said. He took a bean, popped it into his mouth, and grimaced. He declared that it was earwax flavour.

 

She was up and walking around by the night she woke, but Madam Pomfrey didn’t want her to leave until she had been under at least 24 hours of conscious surveillance. Hera pouted at this, but accepted the helpful Matron’s orders.

Her friends had been allowed in to see her, which was a relief.

“Hera!” Hermione threw her arms around her neck. “You’re alright.”

“I know that!” She said, but still hugging back.

“Any clue as to when Madam Pomfrey is letting you out?” Neville said, hugging her too. Plainly the full moon was on his mind.

“Tomorrow. I can’t wait.” She said.

“Oh, cool.” Ron said, Hera turned her attention to him, only to find he was looking at her pile of sweets. “You don’t like Drooble’s, do you Hera?”

“Nah, take what you like.” She smiled.

 

Everything was back to normal after their exams. But soon enough they would be packed and ready to leave. Dumbledore sent her an owl on the day that she was to leave  on the Hogwarts express that told her to come to his office instead of accompanying the other students in the carriages.

“Hera.” He said gravely. “I have been in correspondence with your Aunt and Uncle, and have firmly told them I disapprove of how you have been treated. I will be visiting in the next few days, and I will collect you on the day of the first full moon during the holidays, and returning you after the last.”

“Thank you, sir.” She said. Hopefully she wouldn’t have to cook breakfast every morning from now on.

“It is up to you whether I should reveal the reason behind these absences.”

She huffed, that warranted thinking about. If they did know it would probably be bad, but if they did, they might understand why it was so important she did. But if they know she could control herself they might just keep her locked up as punishment.

“I’m…” She thought a little longer. “I don’t think you should, sir.”

“Very well, Hera.”

Dumbledore then moved over to a fireplace, through some powder into it that made the flames turn green, and told her to step through.

She did so, and found herself stepping out of a fireplace inside the office at Hogsmeade station. She left and boarded the train to find her friends.

And although she had only experienced the full moon cycle once as a wolf, she knew that this was the start of something incredible.


	2. Year 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, not as sporadic as i thought.

## Year 2 Chapter 1

“Dobby heard tell that Miss Potter was…” he dropped his voice to a whisper. “Wolfish.”

“Yeah,” Hera said to the strange little creature that had appeared in her room one night and revealed he had been blocking her letters. There was only one person she didn’t trust not to reveal her gift. “Do you know a family named Malfoy?”

“They is the family Dobby serves, miss.”

“You’re like a butler?” she asked.

“No, miss. Not like a butler.” He said.

“Oh. Then I’m not sure what you mean.” She said. “And why are you wearing a dirty pillowcase?”

“’Tis a mark of House Elf enslavement.” He said.

“You’re a slave?” Hera said, anger bubbling up inside her.

“Yes, miss.”

“We need to get you out of there somehow.” Hera said. Dobby’s eyes began to tear up and Hera realised this might have been a mistake. The elf began to sob extremely loudly. “Please be quiet.” She hissed.

“Is Dobby’s fault, miss; you is not knowing proper order of things.” Dobby said between sobs.

“I-“ Hera said, completely taken aback. She shook it from her head for now. “Why are you here anyway?”

“I came to warn you, you must not go to Hogwarts this year, miss.” Dobby said.

“That’s ridiculous, I need to go there in a few days anyway for the full moon.”

“Ahh, miss; you is not understanding much, terrible things are going to happen this year.” He said.

“Like last year, where Voldemort was inside the castle?” she said, and Dobby screwed up his ears.

“Speak not the name, miss!” he hissed.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t be so flippant with it.” She said.

“Miss Potter is considerate and compassionate, and if she goes back to Hogwarts she will be in danger!”

“Listen, Dobby; I cannot stay here, the Dursleys are practically starving me,” she said. “and if I don’t Dumbledore will bring me to Hogwarts himself so I’m safe while transformed.”

“Dobby will not let you go back.”

 

The following few minutes, involving a silently chase and argument with Dobby, as well as a pudding crashing to the floor in the kitchen resulted in Mr Dursley putting bars on her window and locking her in her room with the promise that not even Dumbledore would be able to get her out.

“You really don’t want to do this.” She yelled into the cat-flap he had installed to deliver food. He didn’t listen.

Although the full moon was not yet upon her, the confinement in her room was hellish. She paced, scratched the walls with human fingernails, and even attempted to pry the bars of with her own meagre strength.

She couldn’t even use accidental magic to open the door locks, using a wand to focus her magic was easy, but it seemed as if she had gotten used to having it as the output for her magical abilities.

This culminated in a terrible nightmare the night before the full moon. She awoke in a cold sweat to see Ron Weasley and his twin brothers flying a car up to her window.

They arrived at his house early that morning. His mother stalked across the driveway and yelled at the boys a little.

“You boys can go de-gnome the garden.” She said after they all finished an early breakfast. “You can go upstairs and have a little rest, dear. I’ll just go set up a bed in Ginevra’s room.”

“Um, Mrs Weasley, I…” she needed to tell her. Not only to explain why she would have to sneak off before bed, but why she ate so much. “Can I talk to you in private?”

“Of course, Hera.” She said. “I’ll be right back.”

Mrs Weasley returned with a picture book. ‘My changing body’ it was called, and the cover illustration showed a boy and a girl standing back to back, holding their pants open and looking inside.

“Um, no!” she said, panicking slightly. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.” She said and vanished the book with a flick of her wand.

Hera looked over into the garden to see the three boys quite distracted, hurling gnomes, which looked like potatoes on legs.

“I-“ she said. She found the words hard to get out. Then she thought better, and decided to try for reassurance first. “Please don’t react badly, but I need to leave for tonight.”

“Of course, you don’t dear, you’re most welcome here.” She said.

“I…” She said. “Look, I’m a werewolf.”

“…” Mrs Weasley stared at her for a second, then a look of comprehension dawned on her face. “Oh, you are the werewolf attending Hogwarts.”

“Wait, you knew about it?” she said, how many others knew?

“Well, my Uncle, Ignatius Prewett, is on the board of Governors, he told me there was a young werewolf at Hogwarts.” She said, and Hera remembered the red-haired governor. “He said you could control yourself, is that true?”

“Yes.” Hera breathed out a sigh of relief, both at the ease of the news, and that knowledge of her gift wasn’t as widespread as she feared. “As long as I have space to run and some food, I’m basically a big puppy.”

“Well it’ll be no problem, we have a hug orchard up in the back paddock, and there’s plenty of game there.” She said. “I’ll show you the way on the next full moon.”

“Thank you, Mrs Weasley.” Hera said. She remembered something. “Um, Ron doesn’t know, could we keep it that way?”

“Of course, dear.” She said, and rounded the kitchen counter to pull her into a hug. “But I think you should tell him, when you’re ready.”

Just then, a flash of red hair darted down the stairs.

“Mummy, have you seen my jumper?” The red-haired girl said, who froze at the sight of her.

“It was on the cat.” Mrs Weasley said, “and you should introduce yourself properly, not just stare.”

“Umm.” Ginny murmured, then said. “Hi, I’m Ginny.”

“I’m Hera.” She said. “It’s nice to meet you Ginny,” Hera squinted. “have I seen you before?”

“Uh, maybe at the station last year?” She said nervously. “I didn’t go last year.”

“Your letter should be due any day now.” Mrs Weasley smiled proudly. Then she turned to Hera. “As should the rest of your letters.”

With Ginny opening up a little, Hera decided to hang out with her for a bit instead of going outside with Ron and the twins. They were talking about what Hera’s first year had been like when Ron, Fred, and George walked in.

“I’m telling you, it was my throw that hit the scarecrow.” One of the twins said.

“Was not, it was mine.” The other said.

“I see you two are getting along.” Ron said, eyebrows raised, when he saw Ginny and Hera sitting next to the couches, talking.

“Surprised?” Hera said.

“Kind of, yeah.” He said.

“Shove off, Ron.” Ginny said. She turned back to Hera. “I was wondering, where’s your scar?”

“I dunno.” Hera said, shrugging. “I never had it, might have just been another thing the stories got wrong.” Then she had an idea. “Although I do have a scar, just not on my forehead.” She pulled up her shirt to show the mark where Hagrid had accidently shot her with his crossbow the previous year. The small patch of raised skin was vaguely circular.

“Cool.” Ron said. “When’d you get that?”

“I don’t know.” She lied.

They day continued similarly, Hera wrote a letter to Dumbledore informing him that she was at the Weasley’s house, and that they had made arrangements for her to change safely. Soon dinner rolled around.

After they were all finished, Mrs Weasley flicked her wand and the dishes started doing themselves.

“Hera, can you come here and help me do the dishes?” She said, surreptitiously holding a satchel of food at the ready for her.

She snuck off from the other Weasleys and ducked out the back door. She heard Mrs Weasley saying that she was just going out for a walk after dinner to her children, and told them to be in bed soon.

The walk over to the orchard was rather long, and Hera could feel the moon above her calling as it climbed higher in the sky. She jumped the low fence and turned back to Mrs Weasley.

“Thank you so much, Mrs Weasley.” She said, and hugged her.

“It’s no trouble, I’ll be back in the morning to bring you back.” She said, turned on the spot, and vanished with a pop.

“Huh.” Hera said. Then she lay out the food that Mrs Weasley had given her. There was a side of brisket meat, and some slices of eye fillet. They looked very tasty. She would have to give her some money for these.

She felt a pull in her mind and slid off her clothes, turning her head to look up at the moon. The light filling her with a warm sensation as she began to change.

Soon she was snapping down the eye fillets hungrily. She left the tougher brisket for later and lolloped off into the orchard.

It was very different to the forbidden forest at Hogwarts, the trees were evenly spaces and planted in rows. She picked up speed, she could afford to if the trees were so ordered. She saw something red on one of the trees in the distance and jumped, snatching the apple from its branch. She crunched it down happily. The sweet juice was not like other things she’d taste in this form, she liked it quite a bit. She ate it whole.

She ran off around the field. She didn’t hear any small mammals to eat, and the apple was still filling her sense of smell; but that was fine. She made her way bag to her stuff and the brisket. She had a great time chewing the tough meet. The opportunity to really chomp at something, feeling the slow progress of sinew separating from muscle fibre, it was very enjoyable. It did take a while though, so she dug a small hole over near the base of a tree and stashed the unfinished cut of meat there to tenderise until she returned the next day.

She gave a howl of thanks to the moon and settled down in the plush grass near the gate and fell asleep.

 

Mrs Weasley arrived early the next morning with a change of clothes for her. She respectfully turned her back while Hera changed into them, and walked her back down the hill to the burrow.

“Thank you for the meat, Mrs Weasley.” Hera said.

“It’s no trouble dear.” She said.

They arrived just before the others began waking up. Mrs Weasley began frying up eggs and sausages.

“Good morning.” Ginny said with a yawn, she pulled out a chair next to Hera. “Hey, where were you last night? I wouldn’t think mum would let you sleep in Ron’s room.”

“She didn’t.” Hera grinned. “I just wanted to sleep outside.”

“That’s weird, wouldn’t you be cold?” Ginny asked, but Mrs Weasley cut in.

“Ginny, can you go wake your brothers?” she said. “I think I can see Hogwarts owls on the horizon.”

“But mum-“ she started to whine.

“If you do, I’ll give you an extra sausage, now go.” She said. This seemed encouragement enough for her, Ginny hopped of her chair and went back upstairs.

It turned out that Mrs Weasley had actually seen owls on the horizon, but before they had the chance to get close to the house, a red-haired man opened the front door.

“Welcome back, Arthur.” Mrs Weasley said. “Did everything go well?”

“Thanks Molly,” he said. “Most of the raids went off without a hitch, had to synchronise them, but Dawlish from the Auror office had the wrong time.”

“How that man ever became an Auror I’ll never know.” She said. “You remember him from school, right?”

“How could I not.” The man said, then turned to the also red-haired Hera. “Molly dearest, umm?”

“Oh, this is Hera Potter.” She said.

“Hi.” Hera said simply.

“Is it really?”

“Since I last checked this morning.” Hera chuckled.

“Great Scott!” he said.

“Don’t sound too pleased, dear.” Mrs Weasley said. “Your sons flew to Surrey and back after you left.”

“Hi Dad.” Ginny came back downstairs, an older brother in tow. She hugged him and sat back down. Mr Weasley took off his coat and hung it on a hook, joining the other four for breakfast.

 

The owls arrived and Ginny was delighted to receive her letter, the other boys came downstairs and they all took a look at their booklists.

“Are all these for Defence against the Dark Arts?” Hera asked the room at large. “They seem more like titles for novels.”

“The Lockhart books?” Ron said. “He’s a tosser.”

“Ron!”

“Mum fancies him.” he said.

They set off for Diagon Alley after breakfast. Despite a rough landing in Knockturn Alley, with the aid of Hagrid she was able to make it to the bookstore to meet the rest of the Weasleys.

She counted herself lucky that she was able to avoid the gaze of Gilderoy Lockhart by lingering near the back of the store. She took a look at his books and her suspicions were confirmed. He was a novelist at best, and she simply chose not to buy them.

She, Ginny, Ron, and the twins were right next to Arthur when someone she recognised walked into the shop. It was the man with long blond hair who had been in the group of governors last year when they approved her attendance at Hogwarts. He caught sight of them. His eyes flicked to Hera. Dobby had known, so presumably the young Mr Malfoy had told the elder.

“And there goes the possibility of wizarding pride amongst you, Weasley.” He said.

“There’s really no need for talk like that, Malfoy.” Mr Weasley said.

Before Hera knew it both fists and books were flying. The adults finally broke apart and Malfoy straightened his robes. He marched out of the shop, shoving Hera painfully with his cane.

“Jeez, what was that about?” Ron said.

“No idea.” Hera lied.

They all started picking up the books from the shelves that Mr Weasley and Mr Malfoy had knocked over.

Soon enough the shopping was over and they travelled via fire back to the Weasley’s house.

Hera’s bed had been set up in Ginny’s room, even though she wouldn’t be using it that night, and they spent some more time talking, she had thoroughly gotten over her nervousness towards her by now and Hera thought they were starting to become friends.

She still hadn’t told her about her being a werewolf, so after dinner she told Ron and Ginny that she was going for a walk and would be back later. Mrs Weasley gave her another bag of meat on her way out along the path she had walked yesterday.

 

## Year 2 Chapter 2

Hera and Ginny walked through the barrier to platform nine and three quarters; or they tried. They instead ran into a solid brick wall. The rest of the Weasleys behind them were stunned, tried the wall themselves, and confirmed it was sealed.

Arthur quickly sent off a letter with Hera’s owl to Hogwarts describing what had happened, and they drove home.

Professors Snape, Dumbledore and McGonagall arrived to assist them just before three o’clock. The six students and their luggage arrived at the castle soon after, with Dumbledore promising to look into what happened at Kings Cross Station.

The rest of the students arrived and they made their way to the feast. Ginny was sorted into Gryffindor and Ron and Hera welcomed her to the table.

 

As it turned out, Gilderoy Lockhart was their new DADA teacher, to which Hera was thoroughly confused; surely it was some sort of conflict of interest to assign 7 expensive books, that he had written, as textbooks for his subject?

He turned out to be as real as his adventure novels. Hermione showed a lot of interest in him, Hera didn’t like that; but she did borrow Hermione’s copy of ‘Wanderings with Werewolves’ to laugh at what this guy thought about her kind.

“You know he’s a fraud, right?” She told Hermione one Saturday breakfast when they were alone in the great hall. “Look at all that stuff in ‘Wanderings’, you know half of that stuff is made up.” Hera flicked through it. “like here, there is no Homorphus charm.”

“If he is a fraud like you say, why did Dumbledore hire him to teach?” she said.

“I don’t know.” She admitted. “I don’t think Dumbledore would have fallen for his shctick.”

 

It was Halloween when the first attack happened.

Hera and Hermione were heading to the library after the feast, the bushy haired girl had finally convinced Hera to get out in front of her tide of homework this year. In the second-floor corridor they can across the blood smeared on the wall, formed into messy letters. The caretaker’s cat was hanging from a torch bracket beneath them.

Somehow, someone, had opened something called the “Chamber of Secrets”. The school was nervous, seeking someone to assign blame to; especially after a first year Gryffindor was petrified in November.

Ron seemed to have latched onto Malfoy as the culprit. Despite Hera and Hermione’s arguments to the contrary: he would be subtler about his prejudice if he were, was rarely seen out of the company of other Slytherins, and although he was heir to the Malfoy family, the Slytherin line was recorded to have died out in the forties. It perhaps wasn’t surprised when he was caught trying to break into the Slytherin common room on Christmas eve. He grumbled about the detention, but they had warned him.

 

Moons passed, she prowled the forest and grounds during them. She had started venturing further and further into the forest now. It was a very interesting place to be in her wolf form. There were many strange smells all around her. In January she found the centaur, Firenze, who had helped her during her first change.

“Hello, miss Potter.” He said. She yipped in response. “How have you been these past months?”

She jumped with happiness.

“That’s good.” He said, he grabbed a thick branch off the ground and added it to the others in his arms.

She whined questionably.

“We require weapons.” He explained. “The spiders in this forest grow large, and they are rather agitated recently. Come, shall we hunt together?” She nodded eagerly. “I will have to return these to my camp, and retrieve my bow.”

He led the way and soon enough they were entering a small clearing. A series of lean-tos and shelters dotted the area.

“More wood!” He shouted, and another came over to grab the branches from him.

“Who have you brought here, Firenze?” said the new centaur.

“A young werewolf, the student I told you about last year, Magorian.” Firenze said.

“Ah, yes.” Magorian said, and adjusted his grip on the branches slightly. He examined her for a second. “Heading out for a hunt?”

“We are, would you come with us?” Firenze asked.

“No, no.” he refused, “Perhaps another moon. I must debark your haul.”

“Very well.” Said Firenze, he trotted over to a rack with a variety of bows and some quivers of arrows and took one of each. “let us away, young wolf.”

They walked a little way into the forest. They were slow and quiet to not disturb any prey. Hera sniffed the air. There was something acrid on the air.

“Spiders, we should veer away.” Firenze said, and they turned their path away.

They walked for a few more minutes before Hera caught the scent of… something large, mammal, and unfamiliar. She snuffled and pointed her nose in the direction.

“I see something through the trees.” Firenze confirmed. He drew and nocked and arrow. “You go around the side while I distract it from the front.”

She slunk off into the trees to the right. She looked back occasionally to see Firenze and the creature. She crept in a vague semi-circle until she was just a few metres away from what seemed to be a buck. She could smell it, so she was downwind of it, good.

She saw Firenze in front of it, he drew back his bow…

TWANG.

The arrow impacted on the buck’s rump and it took off.

Right into her jaws.

She turned her head, breaking its neck and killing it instantly.

“Good job.” Firenze emerged from the trees and withdrew a knife, he began to hack through the young deer’s middle. it may have been more difficult then it should have been, as she was tearing chunks out of its neck at the same time. He did eventually accomplish it, and slung the back end over his back.

“It has been a good night to honour the Huntress with you, miss Potter.” He said, she was listening but she was also focussing rather intently on the blood and flesh going down her throat. She removed herself from the half corpse for a second to give a thankful yip to Firenze, and to howl to the moon itself, for helping her catch this meal. Firenze left, probably heading back to camp, and she ate from the buck, burying what she couldn’t under a tree near the forest’s edge, it would be enough to feed her tomorrow.

She made her way back to the Stone circle to sleep the rest of the night away, but there was something there that she hadn’t noticed earlier; to be fair, she had been eager to head into the forest. It was a small black book.

 

“Someone must have thrown it away.” Hera said the next morning when she was showing Hermione the diary, for that was what it was; and a muggle diary too, bought in Vauxhall road. The cover was, at least; the inner pages were parchment.

She hid it in her trunk that night, but returned the night after, where she examined it more carefully. She eventually tried writing in it, and that gave some answers; namely why she got a weird feeling from it, but also gave her more questions: Who was this Tom Riddle writing back to her?

_My name is Hera_

_Hello Hera, my name is Tom Riddle_

_What are you?_

_A diary_

That answer definitely didn’t inspire confidence in this thing’s trustworthiness. She tried a different tactic.

_What do you know about Hogwarts?_

_I went to school there, it was quite excellent_

_Do you know anything about the chamber of secrets?_

They continued onwards, with Hera plotting out her statements carefully in her head before putting them to paper.

Eventually she found that Tom had witnessed a similar series of attacks some fifty years ago, and offered to show her.

She didn’t like the look of Riddle, this memory of his she was inside of, it was very convenient; and there was something about him that unnerved her.

He confronted Hagrid, and the spider he had cared for scuttled off, when he pointed his wand at him and all but arrested him, she growled.

She took the diary with her to breakfast the next day to show Hermione what she had discovered. She was rather suspicious of it too, especially when she described the ‘red-handed’ capture of Hagrid.

“Should we talk to him about it?” Hermione asked.

“I don’t know, he’s never really talked with me about his expulsion.” She said. “from the looks of this it might be a sore spot.”

“What’re you two talking about?” Ron said, sliding in across from them and pulling up a plate of sausages.

“This book I found out in the grounds a couple of nights ago.” She said, showing it to him. He went pale

“Whoa! Whoa!” he said. “What are you doing with that?” he coughed and continued. “Haven’t you heard about cursed books? My Dad’s always bringing home stories about them, they’re horrible; like this one that cursed you to speak in limericks!”

“Well it hasn’t cursed me yet, so its probably safe.” Said Hera, and she slipped it back into her bag and went off to first period.

 

Ironically, that’s also what it turned out to be. Thank goodness it was in Transfiguration, and not something like potions; she’d have way further to go to the hospital wing from the dungeons. Madam Pomfrey gave her a talk about how her other monthly visitor (which was rather less enjoyable) would work, and requested she stay in overnight for observation, in case it interacted strangely with the first; since this was only about 24 hours since the last full moon.

Hermione rushed in during lunch, she’d put Hera’s books back in their dormitory and brought her a slice of chocolate cake that had appeared in front of her with a note that said ‘For Hera’.

“I guess the castle is sympathetic?” she groaned. Then she whispered. “I told Madam Pomfrey that I’m fine, but honestly, this suck.” About mid morning she had started feeling rather nauseous.

“I know,” Hermione said and patted Hera’s arm. “Ron was such a prat, though; he moved seats after it happened, and he refused to come with me here.”

Hera looked at Hermione with a slightly annoyed expression.

“And you probably didn’t want to know that.” She said. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s fine.”

“I suppose there might be a bright side to this.” Hermione said.

“What’s that?”

“At least we share Transfiguration with the Hufflepuffs.” She said. “and Susan Bones helped me vanish the… you know.”

Ron didn’t deign to speak to her when she returned to the common room that evening either, he was over with and Neville, who was looking rather uncomfortable. Honestly, she wasn’t too disappointed. Like Hermione said, he was a prat.

 

Then there was another attack: a Hufflepuff second year and even stranger, a ghost. This stirred up new speculation about the ‘Heir of Slytherin’ and what the monster in the chamber was.  She was just grateful that no one had pointed to her; she and Hermione had been at the first attack first, but speculation about her had faded, since there was nothing else linking her to the ‘Heir of Slytherin’ and luckily Mr Malfoy was keeping her furry little secret a secret.

 

Valentine’s day was rather embarrassing. Not only had Lockhart hired a number of ‘cupids’ for students to send and receive valentine’s cards, but she also received one. It was a simple card, and she thanked the ‘cupid’ that he hadn’t brought her a singing valentine; she would die if someone did that.

She ducked back to the common room after lunch to read it.

 

_Hera, my dearest_

_Your courage I admire most_

_Although I’m not the proudest_

_Of our love I would boast_

_If you would love me too_

 

It was actually rather sweet, even if she didn’t know much about poetry. She wasn’t sure why, but she wanted to keep this. That morning she had been dreading the possibility of being a recipient, but it was actually rather nice.

She went back up to her dormitory to store it in her trunk, only to fine it open, with her things scattered all over the room. She drew her wand and moved inside carefully.

“Hello?” she called. No one answered. She quickly scanned the room and when she was satisfied it was empty, she began loading her things back into the trunk.

But there was something missing. Tom Riddle’s Diary.

 

## Year 2 Chapter 3

Ron started talking to her again, and she carefully avoided the subject of why they had. To be honest, she needed a friend; Ginny was in a different year, so she had a separate schedule, and Hermione… She had been found in the library, also petrified.

She was the one to make the first move with Ron, they had been given the afternoon off of classes since they were close friends of hers. They needed to go talk with Hagrid.

Hera explained to him what the diary had shown her of Hagrid’s capture by Tom Riddle. He reluctantly agreed to go visit him around six.

She wanted this over with before the full moon rose that night.

He welcomed them with a crossbow to the face.

“Whoa!” She said. “No thanks.” He apologised and gingerly invited them inside, no doubt remembering the last he had aimed the weapon at her, she certainly was.

They didn’t have much time to talk, though, as soon enough Dumbledore and someone claiming to be the minster of Magic turned up. She and Ron hid under the invisibility cloak.

“I’m very sorry, but I have to take him.” The minister said.

“No…” Hagrid croaked, paling significantly. “Not… Not Azkaban.”

“I’m afraid so.” He confirmed. Although Dumbledore vouched for Hagrid, the minister could not be persuaded. “I have to be seen to be doing something, and if you aren’t behind the attacks, you will be released.”

Not even when Hagrid had first seen her in her wolf form did he have the sort of fear in his eyes that he did now. Hera swallowed, trying to douse her anger. She could feel the moon, it was rising; and it would be very bad to transform in this hut. But so long as there weren’t any more interruptions, Ron could get up to the castle before she changed.

Her and her big mouth.

Just as the minister and Hagrid were finishing the paperwork to formalise his arrest, Lord Malfoy entered the hut.

Dumbledore was to be removed as headmaster, by order of the board of governors. Hera felt a growl building in her, there was no way that could be legitimate if what Mrs Weasley said about her uncle Ignatius was true; and she trusted Mrs Weasley.

They finally all filed from the hut, Hagrid leaving with just a last clue ‘Follow the spiders’. Ron threw the cloak off them, extremely angry at Hagrid forcing him to face his greatest fear.

“Ron, you need to go, now.” She said, and pushed the cloak into his arms.

“No, we’re going to find the spiders.” He said. “This is my chance.”

“Your chance for what?” she shouted.

“To prove I can be in Gryffindor!” he said.

“What? What about last year? What about the chess match guarding the stone?”

“Hera, Chess is a game, it didn’t take bravery.” He said, almost pleading.

She sighed, this would have to happen sooner or later.

“Okay, but you need to stay in here for a few minutes.” She said.

“What, why?”

“So I can change.”

“What’s wrong with the clothes you’re wearing now?” He asked. “Is that why you brought your bag? Do you have clothes for forest walking in there?”

“No, not that sort of change.” She said, almost rolling her eyes. “Just don’t come out, I will be naked for a second and don’t think I won’t hex you if you peek.”

“What are you talking about Hera?”

“Just know that it’s safe.” She said, then left the hut. She was almost tempted to leave him there, but even Ron wasn’t that dense.

She threw out the meat around her and removed her robes. The moonlight flowed into her and she felt the change happen.

She was a wolf, and Ron was inside the cabin behind her.

She snapped up the meat quickly, then scratched the door.

It must have an odd sight for Ron as he opened the door: seeing the werewolf, about the size of a pony, that had only a few minutes before been a relatively malnourished twelve-year-old.

“Bloody Hell!” he yelled and leapt backwards into the hut. She just sat there, waiting for him to calm down. He calmed a little bit, and eventually asked “Hera?”

She nodded.

“Bloody Hell.” he repeated. He edged towards the door. “Your’re… You’re a werewolf?” She nodded again. “But you’re not attacking me?” she shook her head. Then jerked it towards the forest.

“No, yeah; you’re right, I wanted to prove myself.” He said, and emerged from the hut.

She stood and walked with him to the forest’s edge.

“Hagrid said to follow the spiders.” He said. He took out his wand and cast “ _Lumos_ ”. Immediately they both saw a trail of spiders heading into the forest. “Well, I guess we should.”

Ron kept his eyes following his greatest fear, finding the trail where it ducked beneath a fallen log or entered the underbrush. Hera was on the lookout, at one point she smelt a rabbit. It was rather difficult to restrain herself from running off, leaving Ron alone, to go hunt it.

Soon the trail of spiders became thicker, as more paths converged into them. The acrid smell was becoming stronger as they went further in. Then she heard something, a sort of creaking above her.

Too late, the giant spider had fallen upon her, fangs driving into her flesh. She let out a yelp, and another spider had already grabbed Ron, and was taking him somewhere. She threw the spider off her by rolling in the dirt. She shook her head, she felt a little woozy. Nevertheless, Hera bounded off after the spider with Ron.

“We bring man!” she heard a clicking voice say from up ahead. She leapt into the clearing through the trees. Ron had been dropped unceremoniously on the ground, and there was a gigantic spider in front of him. She prowled next to him and growled at the encroaching spiders, driving them back slightly.

“What is that noise?” the large spider said.

“The wolf.” Another said.

“Kill them.” The large spider said.

“Wait! Hagrid sent us!” Ron cried out. This got the large spider’s attention.

“Why would Hagrid send you and this beast in to our hollow, especially…” He said, then clicked his pincers. “Alone?”

“He’s been arrested.” Ron said. He looked to Hera and she nodded. “The ministry thinks he’s been attacking students up at the school, like before.”

“Aargh.” The large spider yelled. “That was not Hagrid, and I was not the monster in that confounded ‘Chamber of Secrets’”

“Then who was it?” He said, looking around nervously.

“Not Hagrid.” The spider said. “All I know is the last victim was found in a bathroom. I never left the box where Hagrid kept me.”

“I- Thank you.” Ron stammered. “We’ll just be going.”

“Going? I do not think so. As I said before, kill them.”

Hera lowered herself beside Ron, she had never done this before and didn’t want to make a habit of it; but it was an emergency. He seemed to take the hint and clambered onto her back. She turned and bounded up the side of the clearing, back where they had entered. One of the spiders nicked her with its fangs.

She ran, her head was still woozy from earlier, and this fresh batch of venom wasn’t doing her any favours. Ron held handfuls of her fur in his hands, painfully squeezing. It was difficult to steer through the forest at this speed even when she wasn’t poisoned, but she kept going, slamming into trees every few hundred metres.

She felt her vision fading, just as the edge of the forest came into view, Hagrid’s cabin just beyond the tree line.

She lined up a gap between the trees, closed her eyes, and ran. She collapsed, dizziness preventing her from standing, Ron was thrown from her back onto the grass beside Hagrid’s cabin. She opened her eyes, they were out of the forest. Darkness began to close in on the edge of her vision.

But the moon shone so bright…

 

“Hera.” A voice said. She was lying on something soft and cool. She felt as though the light of the moon was all around her.

“Ugh.” She groaned, wooziness dissipating in the glow of the moon. She opened her eyes, she was back in her human form, and she was lying on some sort of fur. Something warm and let licked her cheek. She looked up to see a large wolf. It was different to any wolf she had ever seen, it was far bigger than she was in her wolf form. It was pitch black, with large white eyes.

“Hera.” She heard the voice say again. It could only be coming from the wolf, but she hadn’t moved her mouth. “My dear little wolf.”

“Hello.” Hera said simply.

“And hello to you.” She said and licked Hera again. “You are recovering quickly. I wanted to see you.”

“Who are you?” Hera asked, and a sudden thought occurred to her. “Are you the Moon?”

The Wolf chuckled softly in her mind. “Yes, and no. I am the Moon, and other things.”

“How does that work?” Hera asked.

“How are you both a girl and a wolf?” She asked rhetorically.

“Oh, ok.” She said.

“The time is coming soon where you will have to make a choice.” The Wolf said. “She will hang between life and death.”

“Who, who’s dying?” Hera asked.

“You will know, the events are already in motion.” The Wolf said. “You will need to know,”

“Know what?” she asked.

“So impatient, my little huntress.” She said. “You will need to know how to save her life.” Hera decided not to interrupt. “Feel the moonlight inside of you, and pull it to the surface.”

“I will.” Hera nodded.

“It is morning soon.” The Wolf yawned. “Good luck, little wolf.”

 

She awoke on the grass beside Hagrid’s hut. She sat up and rubbed her eyes. It was morning and she was human again.

“What happened?” She murmured. “Who was that?” She walked over to her bag and dressed. Was Ron still in the cabin? She walked around to the door and knocked on it. It opened a crack.

“Hi, uh, Hera.” Ron said from inside.

“Hey.” She said, “Shall we go up to breakfast? I’m starving.”

“So…” He said, opening the door and following after her as she walked back up to the castle. “You’re a werewolf?”

“Yeah.” She said simply, she could tell he was going to have a lot of questions.

“When did you get bitten?” he asked. She thought this was rather insensitive, but answered anyway.

“I didn’t, last year when I had detention in the forest I just… changed.” She said. “Dumbledore couldn’t find records of any werewolves in the area on the previous full moon, but I think I was one before that; just like, not ready.”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Back at the Dursleys I used to use accidental magic to go sleep out under the full moon.” She said. “I did it when I got here, too. And I began bringing food with me, I got really hungry.”

“But then you turned into a wolf?”

“Like I said, that detention last year was the first time.” She said.

“You mean the one with Hermione and Neville for the whole Norbert thing?”

“Yeah, that one.” She said. “Hagrid shot me before he realised that I was in control.”

“Wait, what?” He said, then his brain started to piece things together. “That scar on your stomach…”

“Yep, crossbow.” She said.

“That means you were a werewolf when you were at the Burrow.”

“Yeah, I explained to your mum, and she had heard about me from your… I guess great uncle Ignatius.” She said. “Neither knew I was the werewolf, but Dumbledore had to call the governors in to approve me staying here.”

“Oh, yeah, I forgot he was a governor.”

“So, she gave me some food and led me over to the orchard to run around.”

“Run around, why?”

Hera shrugged. “I dunno, I just gotta, otherwise I get really upset. So, I’ve been running around the forest for the past year or so.”

“Who else knows?” Ron asked.

“Let’s see…” She listed them off. “Hagrid, Dumbledore, McGonagall, Madam Pomfrey, she was really concerned how my two cycles would interact, your mum, probably also your dad, Hermione, Neville, that blond guy from Slytherin who was at the detention too, and his dad.”

“Malfoy?!” Ron was shocked. “Do you have any idea how bad this is?”

“Relax, he’s known for a year and neither of them have done anything.”

“Maybe not yet, but his family were big You-know-who supporters.” Ron said. “They could leak it to the papers to discredit you.”

“According to what Hermione said there’s been at least seven expose’s that I’m some sort of magical creature or another.” She said. “None of those have come to anything.”

“Yeah but you actually are a werewolf…” He whispered, they were approaching the entrance hall.

She just shrugged and walked inside.

 

## Year 2 Chapter 4

It was just a few days later when the next attack struck. Where the first message was another had been left. The corridor right next to where the ghost of Moaning Myrtle resided. A student killed in a bathroom? She was a likely candidate.

Hera went to the staffroom to tell them what she had figured, only to hear that Ginny Weasley had been the victim, that she had been taken inside the chamber.

She heard the staff embarrass Lockhart into helping. She found Ron back in the common room and told him what she had heard, about who had been taken. He set his jaw and decided, much like with the spiders, to confront Lockhart.

It was a simple matter to disarm him and make him come with them to Myrtle’s bathroom on the second floor.

“Myrtle… How did you die?” Hera asked and she could have sworn the ghost had swooned.

“Oh, it was just absolutely horrific.” She said, flying up to Hera. “I opened the cubicle, and I died!”

“That… sounds horrible.” Hera said, trying to get a sense for how she viewed her death so positively with such negative descriptions.

“A great big pair of eyes! Over by that sink.” She pointed, and Ron went and examined it.

“There’s some sort of switch here.” Ron said calmly. The sink shuddered and sunk into the floor, revealing a pipe behind it.

The trio descended the pipe, and fell out into a small antechamber, filled with rat skeletons. The followed a rocky passageway, but then a large shape emerged from the dark; prompting Lockhart to feint.

Hera went over and poked him with her wand. This, it turned out, was a mistake. He rolled over quickly, having been faking, and grabbed the wand.

“It’s really too bad that you two didn’t make it out with your minds intact.” He said “Especially you, Potter, with how easily you figured it out.”

He cast a spell to modify her memories.

“ _Obliviate_.”

The bolt of light from her own wand hit her squarely in the chest, she felt herself listed off the stone floor and hit the rock wall. The rock around them started to rumble, and a wall of rock fell in between Hera and Ron and Lockhart.

She sat up, she could still remember things; and not just patches, it was like the spell hadn’t affected her. She felt the scrapes on her back where she had hit the rock tingling. Was it something to do with her being a werewolf?

“Ron?” She called through the rubble.

“Hera?” he called back.

“Turns out Lockhart isn’t as great at memory charms as he thought, I still remember everything.”

“Alright!” Ron said. “He got knocked out from the rockfall, I took your wand wand; I’ll start moving some of this stuff, and you go find Ginny.”

So, without her wand; Hera ventured further into the Chamber of Secrets. She followed the large snakeskin to a large open door. Looking through she could see stone snake heads bordering a long chamber.

She followed the path in the middle, and out of the gloom she saw a body with red hair.

“Ginny!” she ran up to her friend. She looked to be out cold, with her wrists and ankles bound with two halves of a Gryffindor scarf. “Ginny? What happened?”

“You’ve arrived at last.” Said a voice from beside her. She looked over, Tom Riddle stood there, as he had appeared in the memory from the diary; and speaking of the diary, it was here on the floor too.

“I knew I had a bad feeling about you.” Hera said, and she stood. She charged at Riddle, fists swinging, only to pass right through him.

“So bull-headed.” He scoffed. “That’s not going to help you here.”

“What have you done to Ginny?” She said, turning to Riddle.

“I haven’t done anything to the little blood traitor.” He said, trying to put on an innocent face. “Her brother… I’m afraid he has some apologising to do.”

“What do you mean?” Hera said, what did Ron have to do with this?

“Well, he’s the one who brought her down here.”

“No.” She refused to accept this, Ron was an idiot, but he wouldn’t do something like this.

“Well, he wasn’t exactly in control at the time.” he said. “He was very easy to influence, he poured his soul out to me, and in turn I to him; he was so jealous of you being friends with his sister.”

“So, you’ve been making him do things all year.” She said, eyes narrowing.

“Yes.” He said offhandedly. “he fought back, of course, even tried to throw my diary away, which is when you found it in the grounds. But by then I already had some level of control over him from such a short distance. He was rather desperate to prove to himself he wasn’t behind the attacks, he finally settled on trying to prove the Malfoy brat was responsible.”

“And when the diary was stolen?”

“He convinced one of his classmates to go find it in your trunk.” Riddle said. “Blackmailed him, I think; it wouldn’t look good if Ronald reported that he could enter the girl’s dormitories.”

That was… odd, she put it from her mind for now.

“And the attacks? Why?”

“I wanted to purge the school of mudbloods.” He said simply. “It was slow going, but I have since adjusted my target, to you.”

“Me?”

“Ronald told me how you survived Lord Voldemort.”

“So, what?” she said, afraid of what the answer might be.

“Why?” Riddle grimaced. “Why was the greatest sorcerer in the world not able to kill a baby?”

“Dumbledore said it was love, I’m not sure.” She said.

“Ah, Dumbledore, always the sentimental fool.” Riddle said. “He had no idea I was growing a new order under his very nose.”

‘New Order’ that didn’t sound good.

“So, you’re a magic racist.”

“I am the heir of Slytherin!” he said, “It is my legacy to restore magical Britain to purity.”

With a shock, Hera realised that Riddle’s outline was slowly getting sharper, she had to do something, quickly.

“So, you’re Voldemort.” She guessed.

“Correct, now…” He turned to the great statue of Slytherin at the end of the chamber. “I will succeed where my future self failed.”

A hissing emerged from his mouth, and the mouth of the statue opened. From inside she saw a creature stirring.

If there was ever a time where she could transform at will, this was it.

She thought back to what the Wolf had said.

 _Feel the moonlight inside of you, and pull it to the surface_.

She closed her eyes and concentrated. It was dim, but this late at night, even down this far underground, there was some of the Moon’s glow inside her. She imagined it growing brighter, suffusing her entire body.

And changed.

“What in Merlin’s name is that?!” Riddle shouted.

She shook off her clothes, her wolf form emerging, anger spiking. She hadn’t brought any food with her, and she was starving. Luckily there was a very big source emerging from the statue in front of her. She ran through Riddle, jumped off the floor onto the snake and bit down, tearing a chunk out with her teeth.

The snake hissed in rage, trying to throw her off; but her claws held firm onto its skin. She started moving up to its head, biting on her way. She reached the sensory organs and bit deep into the snake’s right eye socket. The flesh from here tasted foul, she spat out the burst and crumpled eyeball, then moved to the other, biting and spiting it too.

The blood was pooling on the chamber floor now. The snake was slowing… slowing…

Just like Hera had when leaving the forest with the spider venom in her blood.

Finally, it crashed down on the chamber floor. Hera was thrown off.

“Ron!” She heard Ginny shout, the impact of the snake must have woken her up. “What- What the hell is happening here?”

“NO!” Riddle yelled. “Never matter, you’ll be trapped down here, and I will rise again.”

Hera trotted over to the diary, it was between Ginny and the snake. Perhaps if she could destroy it? But she couldn’t even pick it up, her large jaws scrapped uselessly against the ground.

Ginny struggled against the scarf, and managed to slip a hand free from the cheap fabric. She untied herself. Hera turned to her, looking pleadingly at her.

“What?” She said, stunned. Hera pointed to the diary, then to Riddle, then to the snake.

“NO!” Riddle yelled, exposing his hand, Ginny dashed over, picked up the book, and slammed it down of one of the exposed fangs of the snake. Ink began to spurt from it, and Riddle screamed in pain. Great holes opening in his self-projection.

But Hera was focussed on Ginny, she stepped back and collapsed. Hera gingerly took some of her robed in her teeth and dragged her away from the snake. Ginny held up her hand, a small spot of splashed venom was sizzling on her skin.

She was going to die.

She thought back, this was what the Wolf had warned her about.

Those spiders in the forest probably would have killed a human in a single bite, but she had survived two. She survived because she was a werewolf.

Ginny looked up at her, and it was like there were thoughts passing between them; an understanding.

“I don’t want to die.” She said, and held out her other arm.

As Hera’s bite broke Ginny’s skin, the ghost of Tom Riddle exploded in light. She let go, and they both looked back.

Hera could feel herself changing back. The moonlight was still there, but it was less than it was before.

“Hera?” Ginny said in shock, cradling her arm as it healed over far too quickly.

“Hi Ginny.” She said, trudging over to where her clothes had fallen.

“W-Where are we?” She asked.

“The Chamber of Secrets.” She said.

“The ch- then Ron was behind the attacks?” She asked, incredulously. “Jeez, I knew he was a bit of a jerk, but not about that blood supremacy stuff.”

“I don’t think he was, he was being controlled by that guy from before.” Hera didn’t put her robes on, and instead wrapped them around one of her hands, carefully stepped over to the snake’s corpse, and gingerly lifted the wrecked diary off the fangs.

“Ok…” She said. “So, you… I guess we’re wolves? No, we’re werewolves.”

“Yes.” She said. “Sorry you didn’t really get a choice in the matter.”

“No, its fine, I would have died, had you not.” She said, and started to get to her feet, replacing the robes over her arm to conceal the bite mark.

“It’s not bad anyway, I can control myself when I change.” She said. Then she wondered. “You might be able to as well, since I was the one who… you know.”

“Oh, cool.” Ginny said. “How are we going to get out of here anyway?”

“Ron and professor Lockhart are back in the start of the chamber.” Hera said.

“That fraud?”

“Yeah, but he’s an adult wizard, he might be able to help, especially when he realises that his memory charm didn’t affect me.”

“A werewolf thing?”

“Probably.”

 

They made their way back to the start of the chamber, and to the fallen in rock wall.

“Ron?” She called through the rock wall.

“Hera!” he shouted. “What are we doing here? I just woke up, we were in the common room.”

“Ginny’s safe.” She called through the hole in the wall.

They heard a groan through the rock wall.

“Is Lockhart awake?” Hera asked.

“I think I am.” Lockhart’s voice said.

“How about you clear this passageway and I won’t press charges for that memory charm.”

“What?” He said, panicked.

“Turns out you’re not as good as you thought.” She said. “Of course, I could find another way out, and report you to the ministry.”

“Alright.” Lockhart said and the boulders in front of them vanished.

“Ginny!” Ron shouted as soon as he saw her, and walked over for a hug.

“Stay away from me.” She said coldly.

“Ginny?”

“Let’s just get out of here before we tell the whole story.” Hera suggested. She turned to Lockhart. “Any ideas?”

“Well, in my extensive travels-“

“Drop the act and just do it.” She snapped.

“ _Ascendium_ ” he said, and a stairway slid out from the floor of the pipe.

“Thank you.” She said. Then she added “Marching order is Ron, Lockhart, Me, then Ginny.”

 

## Year 2 Chapter 5

They made their way up to McGonagall’s office, where they found the Weasley parents, McGonagall herself, and Dumbledore seated at the desk.

“Oh, hey, you’re back.” She said.

“Ginny!” Mrs Weasley shouted and ran over to hug her daughter. “Dear Merlin are you alright?”

“No thanks to Ron.” Ginny scoffed.

“What?” Mrs Weasley, “What has Ron got to do with this?”

“He kidnapped me.” She said.

“Why don’t we all sit down, and we can hear the story from the beginning?” Dumbledore calmly but firmly suggested.

 

They listened to Ron’s story first.

“So how did you get the diary from Hera’s dormitory?”

“Last year, when Hera, Hermione, and Neville had that detention in the forest, I was waiting for them in the common room. Hermione went upstairs first, told me Hera was in the hospital wing. Then Neville came in looking tired, and he followed her up the girl’s stairs.”

“Yes.” Dumbledore nodded.

“He was halfway up before I realised the stairs hadn’t activated,” He said. “So, I called out to him, he went up the right stairs them. Then I used it to blackmail him into stealing the diary.”

McGonagall and Dumbledore exchanged looks.

 

After Ron finished, he was led off to the Hospital wing by Professor Lockhart, who Hera ‘suggested’ start writing up a resignation letter.

Then they moved onto Hera and Ginny’s story.

“And then Ginny impaled the diary on the Basilisk’s fangs.” Hera said, from her description Dumbledore had surmised that the snake was a creature called a Basilisk. “But…”

“But some of the venom splashed onto my hand.” Ginny said, taking over. She showed her hand, where the small round scar was. “It was going to kill me.”

“You seem to have healed very quickly from exposure to basilisk venom.”  Dumbledore said, in a way that Hera knew that he knew what was coming next.

“That was thanks to Hera.” She pulled up her other sleeve, exposing her bite mark.

“No.” Mrs Weasley said. “No. I refuse that this could happen, there must be a cure.”

“Molly, you know there isn’t.” Mr Weasley said, solemnly.

“I would have died!” Ginny shouted. “but you probably would have preferred that, wouldn’t you.”

“How dare you, Ginevra.” Mrs Weasley said, the rounded, pulling her wand on Hera. “I opened my doors to you, and this is how you repay me?”

“Mum, no.” Ginny stepped between them and pulled Hera into a hug, shielding her with her body. If not for the circumstances Hera suspected she would have enjoyed this.

“Mrs Weasley, perhaps you ought to have a lie down.” Dumbledore said. McGonagall nodded and walked over to Mrs Weasley.

“Come, come, Molly.” She said, gingerly taking her wand and leading her out of the room.

“She’ll come around eventually.” Mr Weasley said. Then added “It’s a little different when it’s your own child.” He waved to Ginny, and held out his arms. Ginny switched hugs from Hera to her father, and Dumbledore turned to Hera.

“I think, in time, we will see if you made the right decision, Hera.” He said, seemingly not realising that he had just implied Ginny was better off dead.

“I hope you can forgive your brother in time, miss Weasley.” He said.

Hera frowned, from what Riddle had said, Ron’s jealousy of Ginny and Hera becoming close had been one of the major reasons Ron had used the diary. And Ginny being the final victim was just a little too big of a coincidence for her.

Ron had been one of her first friends here, but Dumbledore had said it last year, what she wanted most was belonging, she would have clung to the first person she’d run into, even if they weren’t good people.

She would still stay on speaking terms, but couldn’t call him a friend.

“Arthur, if you could escort Ginny to her common room; I am prescribing bedrest.” Dumbledore said. “Then you should head to the hospital wing.”

They nodded, and just a few seconds after they had left Lord Malfoy entered the office; with Dobby the house elf trailing behind him.

The truth came out about his involvement in the diary, and Dobby was freed.

 

The news seemed to have thoroughly spread around the school by dinner the next day, minus the small factoid that both she and Ginny were werewolves. Hera and Ginny were seated next to each other when Hermione entered the hall with the other petrification victims (somehow, they had cured a ghost).

“You figured it out!” She said, hopping into the seat next to Hera.

“Sorry, what?” She asked.

“The page I had in my hand, the Basilisk entry from ‘monstrous truth behind muggle myth’, you found it!” Hermione said.

“No, er, I didn’t.” Hera said.

“Then, how did you figure out what was in the chamber?”

“Dumbledore told me after I described it to him.” Hera said. Hermione was shocked at this.

“Are you serious?” She rolled her eyes. “Hera Potter, you are the most reckless person I have ever met.”

Hera looked down the table, Ron was eating with Seamus and Dean. Neville was eating alone, looking more nervous than usual.

 

There was a full moon before term ended.

Hera led Ginny out to the stone circle, packing extra food for both of them. Despite Hera’s theory that Ginny could control herself, she could still tell that the other girl was nervous.

The full moon shone above them.

Ginny squeaked quietly when they walked out into the moonlight. Hera felt the glow inside her.

“You can feel it.” Hera said. “Before I first changed I used to come out here and sleep under it.”

“It feels… nice.” Ginny said quietly.

“It’ll be even better once we change.”

They reached the stone circle. Hera began removing the food from their bags. She sat down.

“Now we wait.” She said. She lay back and bathed in the moonlight, breathing deeply.

“Hera?” Ginny asked, lying down next to her. “Does it hurt?”

“A little bit, but its over pretty quick.” She said. “And well worth it.” They watched the moon in silence for a few seconds.

“Thanks for saving me.” Ginny said.

“You’re welcome.”

“um…” Ginny muttered. “I- I sent you that Valentine’s day card.”

“The one with the five-line poem?” She asked.

“Yeah, that one…”

“Thanks, it was nice.” Hera said. “I’ve still got it.”

“I- “ Ginny started to say, but Hera felt it too. The change was here.

Bones extended and morphed, their skin became covered in fur. Ginny’s was a similar shade of red to Hera’s, but more fiery than rusty. They shook their clothes off, they had no need for them for now.

Soon enough there were two werewolves in the stone circle. They gleefully ate the meat they had brought with them and headed off to play in the forest. The moon shone down on them, and for just a moment they heard it calling their names.


	3. Year 3 part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 1 of 2 of Prisoner of Azkaban.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's a long year, and I've really been enjoying writing it.

## Year 3 Chapter 1

Returning to the Dursleys was, if possible, even harder than last year. Not only was she separated once again from her friends Hermione and Ginny; But she wouldn’t be able to hunt with Ginny, who Hera had bitten the previous year to save her life.

Both of their families were on holiday, Hermione’s in France, and Ginny’s in Egypt. Ginny’s father had won sort of prize pool from his work at the Ministry of Magic. She had sent a newspaper clipping with her letter, showing them arriving in Egypt. Hera Noted that Ginny was on the complete opposite side of the photo from her brother Ron, who had been at the very least partly responsible for her ending up in the peril Hera had managed to rescue her from. But it was nice to see that she and her mother were looking to be getting on better; Mrs Weasley had been rather shocked at her youngest being a turned into a werewolf, and she had gone so far as to threaten her.

Hera supposed she had something of a point, for while she and Ginny could control themselves while transformed; she hadn’t met any other werewolves, and they apparently couldn’t. It certainly didn’t help that during that very month, Hera later found out that a very serious anti-werewolf law had been passed by the Wizengamut, which was sort of like the muggle House of Lords.

Her thirteenth birthday brought gifts from various friends. Hermione had gotten her a book on magical creatures from a shop in Aquitaine, many entries differed quite a bit from their entries in her assigned textbooks. Ginny had given her a pair of ever-lasting, self-cleaning nose plugs. Which might seem like a small gift, but any werewolf who had to enter Hogwarts’s greenhouses would greatly appreciate them. She had gotten herself a pair too, and included a story about her twin brothers ‘accidently’ locking Ron and Percy, another of their brothers, in a tomb.

Hagrid had gotten her a book. But since he was Hagrid, it had attempted to bite her hand off. Once she got over the excitement of the moving book, it was fairly easy to pacify with some patting. Patting was good.

The last thing she received was a Hogwarts letter, and an enclosed permission form. Apparently third years and above were allowed to visit the nearby village of Hogsmeade on select weekends. The only problem was that it needed to be signed by a parent of guardian. Although the Dursleys were treating her better since Dumbledore had a talk with them after her first year, their kindness probably wouldn’t extend to this on a normal occasion. Nevertheless, it was better to try, she headed downstairs.

“You’re still here, are you?” A voice said from the doorstep. Hera looked up and saw her uncle’s sister: Marge. She was only slightly worse than Vernon on his worst day. Her uncle brushed past her on the stairs, carrying a suitcase, which meant Marge was staying over.

She nodded, then stared down at the bulldog at Marge’s ankle. She had always gotten along well with dogs, maybe because they could sense a fellow wolf, but Ripper was mean. He growled at her as he followed Marge into the lounge room.

Hera rounded the stairs and went into the kitchen, hoping her aunt Petunia might be in a good mood, or at the very least, desperate.

“Aunt Petunia.” She said. Her aunt looked up from the soup she was making for lunch. “I have a form from school here, would you be able to sign it?”

“Why?” She said steadily. It had been a low chance that she was in a good mood because Marge was here, but she had hoped…

“Listen.” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “If you sign it now, then I’ll arrange to leave early this summer. Which means no strange visitors.”

Earlier that month there was quite a stir when headmaster Dumbledore turned up in a bright green suit to take her to Hogwarts for the full moon.

“Give it here.” Petunia said desperately. She signed it quickly and thrust it back at Hera. She turned and raced up the stairs.

 

For some strange reason her uncle insisted that she stay with them all through dinner that week. Perhaps he was just trying to make her miserable, or provide a target for his sister’s ire that wasn’t himself.

“What was it the girl’s father did, Petunia?” Marge asked a few days into her stay.

“Unemployed, he didn’t work.”

“Ha, I might have known, a layabout wastrel.” She said. Hera didn’t know if her father had worked, she honestly hadn’t thought about him much, but if the gold in her vault in Gringotts was any indication, he had no reason to work.

She pushed the thought aside.

“Have you seen the news about that escaped convict, Marge?” Petunia asked.

“That’s another we could all do without, those lot should be put down.” Marge said.

 

But on Marge’s last night visiting, she stepped over the line. She insulted her mother.

“Bad blood will out. Now, I'm saying nothing against your family, Petunia, but your sister was a bad egg. They turn up in the best families. Then she ran off with a drunk and here's the result right in front of us. If there’s something wrong with the Bitch-" She had said. Petunia’s expression made it quite clear that she was rather insulted. Hera didn’t care about that, she only felt the anger inside herself.

Hera hadn’t intended on throwing the rather large woman through the glass door, it just sort of happened.

Hera ran up the stairs, planning out her next move. She needed to leave, quickly. She had made sure her trunk was packed since Marge arrived, she dragged it down the stairs and out the door while Vernon was still tending to his sister.

The cold air was as bracing as it always was. Unfortunately, she had no idea what to do from here. If she could somehow get to London then she could stay at the Leaky Cauldron, but that was pretty far from Surrey. She sat down on a curb.

It was a new moon, literally the worst phase, in her opinion. No moonlight could reach her, she didn’t even have the small comfort that came from a crescent.

Hera smelt something on the wind, it was odd, she looked up. Out of the gap between some hedges was a large, black, dog. She waved. It peeked out of the shadows slightly. She could see it was very thin, and its hair was all shaggy and matted.

She waved it over, but it slunk back into the shadows.

BANG.

A bus appeared in front of her.

 

The Knight Bus was an interesting experience to say the least. The purple, three decker bus sped through the muggle traffic around it at high speed. It seemed to slip through gaps entirely too small for it, and never seemed to hit any of the sidewalk objects that it should have ploughed into.

She couldn’t help but notice the face of the ‘escaped convict’ that the Dursleys had mentioned, was staring at her out of the cover of the paper the conductor was reading. ‘Sirius Black’ was his name.

When she finally managed to disembark at the Leaky Cauldron, Dumbledore was already there to greet her.

‘He must have people watching me,’ thought Hera. ‘They probably called the bus.’

“Ah, Hera.” He said, “I’d hoped you would come here.”

“I’m not going to apologise for what I did,” She scowled. Dumbledore looked rather disappointed.

“Perhaps we should discuss this in a private room.” He said, looking around to where the Knight Bus had sped off.

He led her up to one of the Leaky Cauldron’s rooms. He motioned for her to sit down on the bed. She continued to scowl but sat down.

“Hera, first: I want to say I’m not angry, just disappointed.” He said, and she didn’t know what she should think. “Running away like that was rather foolish.”

“Maybe, but what was I supposed to do?” she asked.

“You should have stayed with your family.”

“The Dursleys aren’t my family.” She said. “In case you forgot my family died ten years ago.”

“Eleven years,” Dumbledore corrected, avoiding her retort. “Nevertheless, you should have stayed at Privet Drive.”

“Do you really think they would have let me stay after I threw Marge through the glass door?” She said, almost daring Dumbledore to answer in the affirmative.

“Of course, they would have.” He said. Hera had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. “Although you acted most immaturely with your Aunt Marge.”

This Hera had to close her eyes for, she breathed deeply, then opened them.

“She insulted my mother.” She said simply.

“Exactly, Hera.” He said. “You need to rise above it.”

“Why?” She scowled, balling her fists in the blanket. “Why should I?”

“Hmm.” Dumbledore chose not to answer, instead he said. “Perhaps you ought to calm down before I am required to take steps to ensure your safety.”

Hera wanted to shout, she very much wanted to say something, but she couldn’t find the words. She decided that she didn’t like it when he did that.

Dumbledore seemed satisfied.

“I will return to take you to Hogwarts on the full moon, but until school returns you will be staying here.” He said, and left the room.

She growled at the closed door.

 

## Year 3 Chapter 2

She enjoyed this sense of independence that she got from living by her own timetable. But after the first week Hera couldn’t help but admit that it was rather lonely. Every morning she would eat breakfast down in the Leaky Cauldron, then venture into Diagon Alley. She hadn’t been able to have much of a look around there during her accompanied shopping trips the previous two years, so she quite enjoyed having a thorough look at all the different shops that she had never visited.

Hera spent some time looking over a collection of books in a second-hand shop. It was all stored in a single trunk, like someone would use if they were attending Hogwarts, and it had the initials A.N.P. in brass affixed to the side. She opened up the trunk and began browsing the various books. She was surprised to see a copy of the book Hermione had bought her was among this collection. She ran her finger down the spines, there were books on defence against the dark arts, herbology, pre-Roman cultures of Britain and Ireland, potions, and- what was that one? She picked up the book titled ‘Albion before Caesar’ and flipped it over. Hera flipped open the wooden cover to look at the index, it listed various groups that the book covered, she had heard of some in her muggle schooling, but others were rather alien to her.

She shut the book, replaced it, and was about to go back to browsing when the shopkeeper came up behind her.

“Quite a rare find, a collection like that.” She said. She had long wavy brown hair, and spoke with a funny accent that made her sound like she was always asking a question.

“I guess so.” Hera said.

“Can I help you with anything today?” That was a question. “Anything specific you’re looking for?”

“Not really, just looking around.” Hera said. Then, feeling like she wanted to keep talking, asked. “Where did you get it? This trunk?”

“Well, it was before I was working here,” She said. “But from what I’ve heard an elderly woman sold it about five years ago, she said her daughter in law no longer had need of them.”

“huh.”

“I have no idea why, some of the books from there were really rare so we sold them separately to collectors.” She continued. “Only reason I could think that she wanted rid of them is if they were bad memories.”

“Ok.” Hera said, looking up at the shopkeeper.

“Anyway, I’ll let you go now.” She said, and moved off to the counter.

Hera stayed a little longer in the shop, sometimes glancing over at the shopkeeper. She spotted a book in the trunk that was called ‘Mythical from Magical: Muggle myth explained through Magizoology’ which seemed like it would be interesting, and took it to the counter. She paid for it and left with one last glance at the shopkeeper.

It turned out to be a very interesting read, each entry started with an explanation of one or more muggle myths, and then it went on to examine if and how various magical creatures had contributed to it. For example: The Minotaur, from the Myth of Theseus and the Minotaur, was speculated to be some sort of Animagus, and the story of St Patrick driving snakes from Ireland was speculated to have been a wizard’s victory over a group of pagan Parselmouths (someone who could talk to snakes).  It was rather surprising that such a concept for a book would exist at all, given how dismissive wizarding society was of muggle everything.

There were not many eateries in Diagon Alley, just an ice-cream parlour and the Leaky Cauldron. Although the ice-cream was delicious, it got rather boring and insubstantial. The Leaky Cauldron was also very nice, but she didn’t always feel like meatloaf, soups or pies. So, it was decided, she traded some galleons for some pounds and ventured out into muggle London.

Hera returned that night with a stomach full of fish and chips, clutching some bags of normal clothing, which she was rather lacking in.

She eventually figured that she should do some homework over the holidays, and sat down with a transfiguration assignment outside the ice-cream parlour. She really should be focussing on her History of Magic work, but that was really less interesting.

She jumped a little when she recognised the owner, Florean Fortescue, from the Hogwarts board of governors that she met while in her wolf form in her first year.

Hera was just about to finish up and move on when she heard someone mention Sirius Black.

“I don’t let the kids out after dark, not until they’ve caught him.” Said a blonde, middle aged, witch.

“After what he did to those poor muggles,” A slightly younger man with similar hair said. “I am in thorough agreement.”

“And…” She lowered her voice, but Hera could still hear. “After what he did to mister Pettigrew…”

“Dreadful.” The man said, shaking his head. He changed the subject to lighten the tone. “How are the kids?”

“Oh, they’re excellent.” She said. “Gale’s started showing accidental magic, and…”

Hera closed her transfiguration book, no longer interested in the conversation, and returned to the Leaky Cauldron.

 

On the day of the full moon, Professor McGonagall arrived instead of Dumbledore.

“The Professor thought it would be better if I were to escort you.” She said simply. Hera was initially angry at the reminder of her and the headmaster’s prior conversation, but did her best to breathe slowly to help calm down.

Her anger had been replaced by loneliness once she reached the stone circle outside Hogwarts. At the end of last year, she had hunted alongside Ginny, and although they had caught nothing on their first night, it had felt better than when she was alone.

She returned to the stone circle, a dead rabbit clutched between her jaws. She ate it quickly before howling thanks to the moon, and falling asleep.

 

Hera returned to Diagon alley two nights later, and returned to walking up and down the street all day. By now, she was thoroughly bored. More than once she had caught herself glancing down Knocturn Alley, a place known for its shops dedicated to the ‘Dark Arts’. Of course, she couldn’t explore it, she had accidently ended up there the previous year, and been informed by Hagrid that it was dangerous for someone who might be recognised as ‘Hera Potter’.

The solution came in one of the visitors to the Leaky Cauldron. A shrivelled old woman with slightly green skin ordered a plate of raw liver from Tom the barkeep. She was wearing a large black cloak and hood.

Hera wondered why she hadn’t thought of something like that sooner to help alleviate her boredom. Sure, she could have used her invisibility cloak, but it would be rather suspicious if she bumped into anything. She went out that day and scoured the second-hand shops for a cloak. A used one would probably look less out of place, even if she was short for a full-grown witch.

She returned to the shop with the wavy-haired woman often, so although she knew it probably didn’t have the sort of cloak she was looking for, she stopped in anyway. She ended up buying the book from the trunk on the pre-Roman cultures of Britain and Ireland, and was happy to talk to the shopkeeper again.

She eventually found the cloak she was looking for. She balled it up and took it to her room in the Leaky Cauldron. She hung it up against the room’s mirror, it’s wide top side servings as shoulders to keep the cloak up.

She put her hand on her shoulder and measured where it reached on the cloak, then she kept that hand in place while moved her other hand to the shoulders of the cloak. They were about a hand’s length apart. She sat down on the floor and took her wand out.

“ _Diffindo_.” She whispered, holding the wand level about a hand length above the floor. She threw the scrap fabric away, and took her new cloak off the hangar. However, it was getting late, and she would rather not go walking around Knockturn alley in the dark.

 

## Year 3 Chapter 3

She went down to the bar for some dinner. Somehow, she had managed to convince Tom the barkeep to make some muggle recipes, like chicken parmigiana, which she had tried in muggle London on one of her visits in the past fortnight. She might need to warm him up to the idea of what he (and Vernon) called ‘foreign foods’, like chicken tikka masala.

She was just about to sit down to eat when she saw someone she knew. Neville and an old woman were sitting in a cubicle. While Mrs Longbottom looked stony faced, and was eating soup, Neville looked sad, and wasn’t eating. No, was that sad? It looked sort of like a sad expression.

She needed to help, whatever it was. She walked over to the pair.

“Hi.” She said hesitantly. “Do you mind if I sit down?”

“Hera!” Neville said, eyes flocking to the woman opposite.

“Hera Potter?” She asked, eyes flicking upward to where she expected to see the scar shaped like a bolt of lightning.

“Yeah, hi.” She said. “The scar thing’s not real, if you’re wondering.” Neville moved aside to make room for her, she sat down with a “Thanks”.

They sat in silence for a moment, and Hera realised she hadn’t really thought this through. She searched around for something to say, anything at all.

“I don’t blame you, you know, for what happened last year with Ron and the Chamber.” She said, and if Neville’s expression were anything to go by, she’d have been better off not saying anything at all.

“I know, Hera; that’s not it.” Neville said. Neville’s eyes flicked to Mrs Longbottom. “I’d really rather not talk about it.”

“Oh, ok.” She said. “How have your holidays been?”

“It’s been…” Neville said. “Aright.”

“How’s your greenhouses going?” She said, and this was a better question. Although she rather disliked Herbology, too many strange smells, she knew Neville excelled at it. Neville had been planning on building a greenhouse all year last year, with lots of specific climate controls, and space for all sorts of plants.

“Oh, it’s going well! Professor Sprout sent me some rare seeds after last year. I’m hoping I can repay the seeds by Christmas, with how quickly they’re flowering.”

The conversation went much better after that. Eventually Hera excused herself when it got a little too late, and started walking up the stairs to her room. As she was arriving at her room, Neville caught up to her.

“Hera, can I talk to you about something in private?”

She held her door open, and followed Neville in. She sat down on the bed and gestured to a spot next to her. Neville sat down.

“Look, I really don’t know how to explain this…” Neville said looking straight ahead at the wall in front of both of them. “No, I do, I’m just stalling.” Neville sighed. “I’m a - a girl.”

“Oh?” Hera said, she flashed back to Privet drive, and one of those other groups Vernon didn’t like.

“Yeah.” Neville said.

“Ok.” Hera said, then could have smacked herself, she needed to comfort her friend. She hugged the girl next to her.

“I sort of always knew…” Neville said.

“But the Chamber nonsense with Ron brought it to the forefront, I guess?” Hera asked.

“Yeah, Dumbledore and McGonagall called my gran up to the castle to talk about it before term ended.” Neville said. “Apparently the staircases work by judging someone’s magical core, and because I’m a girl it let me up.”

“Alright.” Hera said, she had no idea what a magical core was, but this probably wasn’t the time to ask.

“I’m going to be going through a ritual tomorrow, well tonight, but after midnight.” Neville said. “It’s going to change me, make me… like, all girl.”

“I was wondering why you weren’t eating.” She said, she had heard that Dudley wasn’t allowed breakfast before his operation on September the first of her first year, maybe this was like that?

“I’m not all about food, Hera.” Neville smiled a little.

“Oh, no; I didn’t mean that, its just that muggles do something similar before operations.”

“I don’t have to, I’d just nervous.”

“Oh. Besides, I am not the best example of restraining myself from eating.” She said. “I take a bunch of meat out with me when I change, and usually end up going hunting for more.”

Neville smiled at that.

“Dumbledore just wanted to inform my Gran, but she insisted on, if I was sure of it, getting the ritual before school went back.” Neville said, smiling slightly. “She’s having some difficulty, but she did her own reading after he told her what the meeting was about; apparently it could… ‘Impair my magical and psychological development’ if I didn’t.”

“Sounds like a good Gran.” Hera said.

“And I am sure, most of the time.” Neville said. “It’s pretty rare…”

“Rarer than a werewolf who wasn’t bitten?”

“Probably not.” Neville said. “But I just wanted to tell you, since you were here, and… I guess we’re sort of friends? I just hope we still are.”

“Of course we are N-“ She cut herself off. “Are you going to change your name?”

“Yeah. My Gran helped a bit, after this week I’ll be Ms Nora Longbottom.” She said.

“This week?” Hera asked.

“The ritual takes a while, and we need to go to France for it.” Nora said. Then lowered her voice conspiratorially. “It’s not technically legal to perform it here.”

“Nora.” Hera said. Holding the other girl tighter. “You have been, and will still be my friend.”

“Thanks, Hera.” Nora said, whipping her eyes on the back of her hand.

“It’s a nice name, it suits you.” She said.

“It was my mum’s middle name.” Nora said.

“That’s nice.” Hera said. “I have no idea where my name came from.”

“I should probably be going…” Nora said.

“I’ll look out for you on the train.” Hera said.

“Thanks.” She said, and left.

Hera didn’t go to bed soon after, as she thought she would. She hopped around to the other side of the bed, facing the glass window onto muggle London. The moon shone through it. She didn’t feel much from the oval shape at the moment. She thought back to the wolf she had seen in her Acromantula venom fuelled dream last year, and hoped Nora would be okay.

One thing was for certain, that sort of courage that Nora had just shown by telling her all that was the most Gryffindor thing she had ever seen.

 

Hera put on her cloak before she left her room the next morning. She pulled the hood up and opened the door. The Leaky Cauldron was empty, and no one noticed her moving through to the Alley.

She walked over to the entrance to Knockturn Alley and turned into it. She walked slowly, careful not to let the cloak reveal that she was not an abnormally short adult, but a slightly less short child.

She entered the first shop, which was identified only by a large, wrought iron spider above its door. It was rather small, with two small shelves in the middle of a room bordered by shelves. Hera looked around, it seemed to be dedicated to things related to particularly dangerous or ‘dark’ magical creatures.

She walked over to the back wall, which held books. She traced her finger across the spines, they mostly seemed to be reference books. Her eyes fell over what she recognised as the book Hagrid had gotten her for her birthday. She stroked the spine and she could hear it purr from inside the shelf.

Hera continued on and she saw a book named ‘Lupine Affliction’, this was most likely on werewolves. She pulled it off the shelf and opened it steadily, remembering the last time she had opened a reportedly ‘dark’ book.

_“Lycanthropy was once believed to be a gift conferred by a pagan goddess. Such superstition has been revised over the years given certain evidence. The Affliction is magical in origin, leading many wizards throughout the ages to postulate that it was a replicating curse created by a Dark Lord, or perhaps dark lady. There is speculation that it was created by the ancient Greek sorceress Circe, who took delight in human to animal transfigurations.”_

Hera flicked through the rest of the book, but from what she saw, it was just expanding on what she could have found in bestiaries in Flourish and Blotts. She put it back.

“So much for that place.” She thought.

The rest of the shops were an odd mix of similar shops, there was even a barber for some reason, and shops that were actually ‘dark’. She skipped looking into Borgin and Burke’s, she had enough during her time hiding in the closet there last year.

All in all, rather disappointing.

 

## Year 3 Chapter 4

The day before Hera was due to return to Hogwarts, she was roaming the streets when she spotted a group of people coming out of the Leaky Cauldron. It looked like the Weasleys were back from Egypt; and from the head of bushy brown hair with them, Hermione was back from France. She might have tanned a little bit, but Hera supposed it was difficult to tell from her normal brown skin tone.

Hera ran up to the group, waving.

“Hera!” She heard Ginny shout, she split off from the group and met her a few metres from her family with a hug. She whispered “I missed you, last hunt.”

“Me too.” Hera said, and separated from Ginny to hug Hermione. She separated from her as well and said. “How was France, ‘Mione?”

“It was so good!” She said. “I learnt so much! For example, did you know that-”

“You’ll both have to tell me more later.” Hera said, cutting Hermione off before she got going.

“Ah, Hera.” Mrs Weasley said rather awkwardly. “It’s good to see you.”

“And you, Mrs Weasley.” She said, and hugged her too, to show that she had decided to move past that nasty incident.

“We’re all heading to get our supplies.” Ginny said. “Want to come with?”

“Yes please, this place gets really boring if it’s the only place you can go for three weeks.” Hera said.

“Three weeks?” Hermione queried.

“It’s a long story, I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

“Mummy, can we split off for a bit?” Ginny turned to her mum.

“Very well, dear.” She said. Turning just in time to see the twins trying to sneak off into Knockturn Alley. “Come back here!”

The trio headed off to Flourish and Blots first for schoolbooks.

“She’s been giving me a longer leash since last year.” Ginny said, laughing at her own joke.

They entered the shop and Hermione headed over to grab a copy of the monster book that Hagrid bought her. The cage that had once held them had been replaced with a rack. An empty glove hovering above it dipping down to stroke one when it got restless. A sign next to the rack said ‘Requires Regular Petting’. The hint about petting them was courtesy of Hera, of course.

“What subjects are you taking this year, Hera?” Hermione asked.

“Care of Magical creatures and Ancient Runes.” She said. “I was thinking of divination, but- ugh, I don’t know.”

“I’m talking Runes, Arithmancy, and Care of Magical creatures.” Hermione said. “Professor McGonagall convinced me to drop muggle studies, and I entirely agree with you about divination.”

“Why would you want to take muggle studies?” Ginny asked incredulously.

“I thought it would be fascinating to learn about them from a wizard’s perspective.”

The other two just rolled their eyes.

 

Hermione had some leftover birthday money, so Hera and Ginny followed her into the magical menagerie for her to buy an owl. Unfortunately, Ron was in there. Ginny scowled and dragged Hera over to the far end of the store.

“That bad, huh?” Hera asked, once they were both firmly looking into a tank of turtles.

“He’s unbelievable.” She said. “I don’t care what Dumbledore says, there’s some part of him that enjoyed it. He hasn’t even apologised.”

“I-“ Hera grimaced, she had to admit that Ginny was right, but still… wait; wasn’t that forgive and forget nonsense what Dumbledore had been trying to get her to do for the Dursleys? “Probably.”

“It’s more than probably, Hera.” Ginny said. “Colin, that first year, was always asking for photos of you from him; Nearly headless Nick was the ghost that caught him trying to break into the Slytherin common room. You know why for me and Hermione.”

It was then that a large orange ball began to leap from shelf to shelf above them.

“Is that a cat?” Hera asked.

“I don’t know,” Ginny said. “It might be some sort of exotic puffskein.”

“Crookshanks, down from there!” The shop manager came out from behind the desk, grabbing a broom as he did. Ron pocketed the small bottle he had bought and left the shop, shutting the door just in time for the furball to crash into one of the panes of glass. The shopkeeper grabbed a wickerwork basket and scooped the thing up. Hera and Ginny walked over to Hermione.

“What was that thing, do you think?” Hera asked, only to see that Hermione was already calling out for the shopkeeper to bring the basket and furball contained within to the counter.

 

On the way back to the Leaky Cauldron, Hera, with an apology for mentioning him, asked why Ron was in the magical menagerie. It turns out his rat Scabbers was ill, Percy had postulated that it was something to do with the Egyptian heat. Apparently Scabbers had been his before he became a prefect, and their older brother Bill’s before that.

 

That night, Hera and Hermione joined the Weasleys for dinner in the Leaky Cauldron. Mr Weasley was reading a copy of the evening edition of the Daily Prophet, Sirius Black’s face emblazoned on the cover.

“Do you reckon we’d get a reward if we caught him, dad?” Ron said eagerly from the far side of the table. Ginny scoffed at this.

“Don’t be ridiculous Ronald, it’ll be Aurors that capture Black.” His father said. “Or the Azkaban guards.” He shivered.

“Don’t be too hard on him, dad.” Ginny said. “He’s got plenty of practice at kidnapping.” This got a slightly larger reaction than Ginny was probably expecting. Ron and Mrs Weasley got to their feet, the twins shot a worried glance at one another, Percy audibly gasped.

“I told you I didn’t do it!” Ron yelled.

“Ginevra, apologise to your brother.” Mrs Weasley said firmly.

“No.” Ginny said, stood as well, and stormed up to her room. After a few seconds, Hera decided to follow her. After a few more, Hermione did too.

 

The next morning, as Hera was about to drag her trunk downstairs to leave for the Hogwarts Express, she was interrupted by Mr Weasley.

“Hera, can I have a word?” he asked, gesturing back towards her open room door.

“Alright.” She said, left her trunk in the hall, and went back into her room. Mr Weasley followed her. “What did you want to talk about?”

“It’s about Sirius Black.” He said, closing the door. “The ministry wouldn’t want me to tell you this, but it is likely that Black is after you.”

“Oh.” She said. “Well I guess so, he was one of Voldemort’s followers, I heard.”

“Yes.” He said, he wrung his hands slightly. Then looked up resolutely. “You have to promise me you won’t go after him.”

“What?” Hera asked, a little surprised. “Why would I go after him if he wants to kill me.”

“Just… promise me, whatever you hear, don’t go after him.” Mr Weasley said.

She wasn’t sure what she was going to say, but it was at that moment that Ginny opened her door.

“Dad, the cars are here.” Ginny said.

“Ah, we’d best get going.” Mr Weasley said, then turned back to Hera. “But please, promise me.”

“Hera, come on!” Ginny called from the door, then she stomped into the room and pulled her by her arm from the rather uncomfortable situation.

They grabbed their trunks from the hall and took them downstairs.

“Thanks for that.” Hera said.

“Dad’s weird when he’s serious.” She said. “but what was that about?”

“I’ll tell you on the train.” Hera said, following Ginny over to the door, where Hermione and Mrs Weasley were arguing about the red-haired witch’s use of love potions. Hermione was also grateful for the excuse to leave her conversation with the adult, and followed the other two out to the ministry cars.

 

They arrived early to the station, and loaded up their trunks in an empty compartment’s roof racks, then returned to outside the train.

“I’m going to go look for someone.” Hera said, craning her neck over the crowd to see if she could see Nora’s grandmother, since she didn’t know what Nora looked like now. She was only too happy that this would prevent Mr Weasley from cornering her again.

Hera eventually saw what looked like a stuffed vulture making its way through the crowd; she recognised it from Nora’s description of one of her Grandmother’s favourite hats. Hera made a beeline through the various people crowding the station. She internally scowled at the blond-haired Malfoy family as she saw them from a distance.

“Hera!” A girl who she figured was Nora said as she emerged from the crowd. They smiled at each other, and Hera pulled her into a hug.

“Hi, Mrs Longbottom.” She waved to Nora’s Grandmother.

“Hello dear.” She said.

“Nora, we’ve got a compartment already, I’ll show you where it is.” Hera said. Nora turned back to her grandmother.

“Bye Gran.” She said, and hugged her.

“Just remember what I said, dear Nora.” Mrs Longbottom said. “And do your best.”

Hera lead Nora over onto the train and to the compartment they had picked out earlier, only to find someone else was there already.

It was a wizard wearing rather shabby robes, he looked about forty years old, and he was fast asleep.

Hera helped Nora put her trunk up in the racks above them, and they sat down opposite the man. It wasn’t long before Hermione and Ginny found their way back to the compartment.

“Oh, hello.” Hermione said to Nora. “I’m Hermione Granger.”

“I know who you are, Hermione.” She said, “I’m Nora Longbottom.” then added with some discomfort, “You know, Neville.”

“Oh? Oh.” Hermione said.

“Cool,” Ginny said, and sat down next to Hera.

“Did something happen?” Hermione asked, sitting down opposite the three girls, next to the man. “Did you get cursed?” The train began to pull away from the station.

“No.” Nora sighed, she had obviously been expecting this sort of misunderstanding eventually. “I’m a girl.”

“But, how?”

“You know how Ron blackmailed me into sneaking up the girl’s stairs to steal back the diary last year?” She said, and Hermione nodded. “It came out in the investigation that I could and Dumbledore told my Gran. I was worried she’d be disappointed, or something, but she took me to France over the holidays for a ritual; even against Dumbledore’s recommendations.”

“That’s kinda weird.” Hera said.

“He said I should finish my education first, but Gran had done some study, and if I had waited that long it might have done irreparable damage to my psyche and magic.” She said.

“Yeah, it’s true.” Ginny said. She lowered her voice. “It’s pretty rare for the different gender than body thing to happen, I hear; but my parents wouldn’t let my brother Charlie do it until he was of age. He had to find out everything himself, and wait until he was of age.” She added. “He went the other way, couldn’t get up the girl’s stairs.”

“Huh, must be a magic thing, I’ve never heard of that in muggle society.” Hermione said.

“Hermione, it definitely is.” Hera said. “You know how muggles don’t talk about things they don’t like. My uncle was always complaining about the parades that went on in London.”

“Oh, of course.” She said.

“I’d appreciate if you didn’t tell anyone else about this, I’m trying to keep it secret.” Nora said.

“Of course,” Hermione said. “Sorry, what did you say your name was?”

“Nora.”

“Of course, Nora.” She said. Then frowned slightly. “I’m sorry if I said anything insensitive, the magical world is still surprising me.”

“It’s alright, Hermione.” She said.

“So, who’s this guy, do you think?” Hera asked the compartment at large, gesturing to the sleeping man.

“Professor R. J. Lupin.” Hermione recited. Then by way of an explanation, said “It’s on his trunk.” She pointed up to the rack, in which the old trunk was sitting.

“Is he going to be a teacher, do you think?” Ginny asked.

“Probably, but they don’t usually take the train.” Nora said.

“Defence against the Dark Arts is the only one I know is free, so that might be it.” Hera said. She couldn’t say for sure, but there was something familiar about this Professor Lupin. Hopefully he would be better than her other two teachers in the subject. Not that that would be a high bar, just not intentionally trying to hurt her would probably be enough.

“Oh. Hey, Ginny, that thing your dad was talking to me about.” Hera said.

“I was wondering what that was about.” She said.

“Well, you know Sirius Black.” Hera said. She leaned in conspiratorially to the other three. “Apparently he’s coming after me.”

“That makes sense, he was a big part of you-know-who’s inner circle.” Nora said.

“You know, Nora, you can just say Voldemort.” Hera said, earning minor winces from Ginny and Nora. “You too Ginny.”

Nora clenched her teeth, Ginny looked off awkwardly.

“Never mind that now.” Hermione said. “There’s more, isn’t there?”

“Yeah, he wanted me to promise him that I wouldn’t go looking for him, no matter what I heard, which means…”

Hera and Hermione spoke at the same time.

“There’s something to hear.”

“Exactly.” Hera said. “Lucky Ginny got me out of it; not that I wouldn’t break a promise like that if I really wanted to, but still.”

The compartment door slid open, it was that blond-haired Malfoy boy.

“Sorry, compartment’s full.” Hera said simply, and she stood to close the door. He grabbed the door, and looked over to Ginny.

“I heard your father finally got his hands on some gold, Weasley.” He said. “Did you all die of shock?”

“Obviously, she didn’t.” Nora said, she had stood up and drawn her wand, it was a different one to what Hera had seen her use before. “ _Tarantelegra_.”

The hex hit Malfoy right in the chest, and his legs began to flick out wildly as if he was doing some sort of dance. His feet dragged his hand free of the door, and Hera was able to close it.

“That was awesome, Nora!” Ginny said. But the girl hadn’t moved from where she had cast the spell. “Nora?”

“I just hexed Draco Malfoy!” She said, with a slight giggle. Her face split into a big smile.

 

As the afternoon drifted on their conversation drifted to what they were expecting for the coming year. Hermione asked Nora if she had many ‘Girl’s Clothes’.

“Not yet, but Gran gave me some extra money to buy stuff in Hogsmeade.” She said cheerfully.

“Oh, we can visit Hogsmeade this year too.” Hermione said. Then she looked sheepishly at the youngest compartment member. “Sorry Ginny.”

Ginny was a year below them, having only started at Hogwarts the previous year.

“Don’t worry, we can find a way to sneak you out.” Hera said, smiling cheekily. She felt her mood drop slightly as she remembered, and added. “As long as we don’t need to go anywhere near the Shrieking Shack, it’s fine.”

“Wait, why?” Ginny asked.

“Back in first year, when I first changed; Dumbledore made me spend the night in there.” She said. “It was the worst thing I’ve ever been through. It’s too small, really dusty, and the moon can’t shine in at all.” It truly was, but she chose to leave out the bit about how she had run back down the tunnel as soon as she could, crying her eyes out. If she never had to be anywhere near that thing it was far too soon.

“Oh my gosh.” Ginny said. “That must have been horrible.”

“Yeah.” She said. “Oh, I forgot to ask you, how was the change in Egypt?”

“It was awesome,” She replied. “I changed later than usual. All that sand was a bit eugh, but I found some wetlands on my second night, I caught an ibis there.” She said proudly.

“That’s so cool, I’ve never been able to catch birds here.”

“Anyway, if you two are finished…” Hermione said.

KERCHUNK.

The steam engine stopped suddenly and the lights went out.

“What’s happened, do you think?” Ginny asked.

“Maybe we broke down?” Hera asked.

“Hera, that’s impossible, if you read ‘Hogwarts: A History’-“ Hermione tried to say.

“Quiet.” Came a hoarse voice from the corner of the compartment, apparently professor Lupin had woken up. Light appeared in the form of some tongues of blue flame held in his palm. It was professor Lupin, and he had drawn his wand.

The compartment door slid open, an icy mist flowed in. behind the door was a figure in a long, black, tattered, cloak. It drew a breath, and Hera felt she’d been plunged into icy cold water. Like she would never breathe again; she was drowning in the air.

Then the memories came back to her. A room barely a metre long. A pain in her side, looking up at the friend who had betrayed her. Scratching on the door that could not open. Waking up to the wrecked house, still feeling weak.

“Out.” She heard someone scream. “Out.” Then she realised she was the one screaming, and she blacked out.

 

Hera awoke, a little shaken, but much better when she ate the chocolate Lupin gave her. What bothered her most was that she had collapsed, it didn’t seem like anyone else had.

That ‘Dementor’, as Lupin called it was gone, and the train carried them to Hogsmeade station without any further interruption.

When Hera arrived at the station, she was rather surprised to see a herd of skeletal black horses drawing the carts to take her up to school. What was rather odd, was that no one else, except maybe Nora, seemed to be able to see them. They shot each other a look

She decided not to mention them.

 

## Year 3 Chapter 5

It turned out Lupin was their new defence teacher; a good thing too, since the Dementors were also going to be sticking around, ‘guarding’ the school from Sirius Black. After lunch the next day, they had their first chance to attend one of Hagrid’s Care of Magical Creatures Classes.

Hera was called upon for the first demonstration.

“Now, make sure not to blink too much, or too little.” Hagrid said “He won’t trust you, see.” But as soon as Hera separated herself from the crowd, Buckbeak did part of his namesake, pulling free of the fencepost he had been affixed to and ran off into the forest.

The rest of the class passed fairly awkwardly, with Hagrid telling them about hippogriffs, rather than showing them.

“To be fair, that could have gone worse.” Hermione said on their way up to the castle.

 

The next day they had their first Defence against the Dark Arts class of the year, and their first with lupin. When they arrived in his classroom, he announced that they would be having their lesson in the Teacher’s lounge.

After minor intrusion from peeves, they reached the lounge.

“Well now, today we will be studying a peculiar creature called a boggart.” Lupin said, and directed their attention to a cabinet in the middle of the room. It shook menacingly. “Now, can anyone tell me anything about boggarts?”

“It’s a type of shapeshifter,” Hermione said. “It will take the form of whatever will scare the person who it is focussed on.”

“Correct, five points for Gryffindor.” Lupin said. “We have an advantage on this boggart, can anyone tell us why?”

“We’re in a group.” Hera said simply.

“Exactly, five more points for Gryffindor.” Lupin said. He went on to explain they would be facing it one at a time to allow them to practice, eventually overwhelming it into oblivion, and the spell to force it to assume a form they found amusing ( _Riddikulus_ ).

Hera saw that Nora had been pushed to the front of the line. She hoped the girl would be okay, whispers had been going around the school about her, and that can’t be good for her previously flimsy confidence. But she had hexed the Malfoy boy on the train.

“Nora, I believe.” Lupin said. “Can you tell us what frightens you most of all.”

“Snape.” Nora said quietly.

“Scares us all.” There was a chorus of chuckles around the room at this.

“And I believe you live with your grandmother?”

“Yes.” Nora said, almost suspiciously.

“Can you tell me what sort of clothes she-“ Lupin began to say, but Nora interrupted her.

“No.” She said, defiantly.

“Oh, ok.” Lupin said, taken aback slightly, “Well, can you picture Professor Snape in a way that is humorous?”

“I can.” She said. Then she took a breath and raised her wand. “Alright, let’s do this.” Lupin opened the cabinet, and out stepped professor Snape.

“ _Riddikulus_.” Nora screwed up her face and flicked her wand. Instantly, Snape’s clothes changed, but not in the way that Lupin had planned. Snape’s usual robes were replaced with black trousers, and a shirt with horizontal black and white stripes. His face went white, as if someone had hit it with a bag of flour, and a large black tear shape appeared under one eye. This newly created ‘Mime-Snape’ then seemed to realise he was trapped in some sort of invisible box.

A roar of laughter went up from the crowd of students, and lupin sent Nora to the back of the line for the next student to have a go.

As the line went forwards Hera saw several predictable things, a mummy, a giant rat, and a cobra that someone thought would be amusing if it were turned into a far scarier looking jack-in-the-box. Then it was Ron’s turn. Hera knew what his would be, for the whole time she’d known him he’d been petrified of spiders.

She was rather shocked when she looked upon herself, or rather, herself when she was under the full moon.

But no, it wasn’t her, the fur was too red.

It was Ginny.

Ginny was growling at her brother. She barked at him threateningly.

Hera faintly caught Lupin’s eyes widen in shock, then crease in confusion.

“ _R_ - _Riddikulus_.” Ron stammered, and the Werewolf was turned into a tiny puppy. A series of ‘awww’s went out from the crowd, but very little laughter.

Then it was Hermione’s turn. Hera didn’t pay much attention to Hermione’s mental battle against a deeply disappointed professor McGonagall. She glanced back at Ron. Ginny was really his greatest fear? As much as they were sure he had had some hand in the events last year, he wasn’t entirely responsible.

“Damn.” She thought. “I’ll have to talk with her.”

She almost missed it when her turn came around. She stepped up, and suddenly she was back in the Shrieking shack.

“No,” She said. The barricades seemed to shift slightly, until all light was gone. She was suffocating, it was too small, she needed out.

Out.

She vaguely felt herself fall down onto her knees. Her breathing sped up. She couldn’t see anything; her eyes were far too shut.

Out.

She needed to get out. She could get out. She just needed to feel the moonlight within herself and-

“Here!” She heard Lupin shout, she could tell the Boggart had changed, but she kept her eyes shut. Her wand long forgotten somewhere on the floor. “ _Riddikulus_.” She heard a noise like air escaping from a balloon, followed by a little tap of rubber landing on floorboards.

“Next student please,” Lupin said, then she heard him crouch down next to her. She knew it was gone, but she could not open her eyes. “Miss Granger, please assist.”

Hermione crouched down next to her and started stroking her head.

“Its ok Hera, you’re not back there.” Hermione said. “You’ll never need to go back there.” Hera felt her muscles began to relax, she slowly opened her eyes.

Hermione was smiling above her. She smiled back, tears coming to her eyes, and flung her arms around the other girl.

“We’re in the Teacher’s lounge, remember?” Hermione said. “It’s DADA class, it was just a boggart.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Hera said and began trying to push herself to her feet.

“Hermione, can you take Hera to the Hospital Wing?” Lupin said, half focussed on Seamus Finnegan and his Banshee.

“Of course, Professor.” She began steering Hera through the crowd.

Whispers followed her out, she tuned most of them out, but she heard one just too clearly.

“Pathetic Bitch.”

Anger flared within her. She ripped herself free of Hermione’s arms.

She had recognised Ron’s voice. Of course, it had to have been him, just when she thought she should talk to Ginny about him. She couldn’t see much over her tears, but she didn’t need to. She homed in on that vibrant red hair, which looked pretty on Ginny, but on him it just looked like he had dyed his hair with grapefruit juice. She pulled back her fist and swung.

The hit felt good. He stumbled backwards, but she grabbed the front of his robes and punched again.

She felt something buzz against her side, but she didn’t care. The anger behind her eyes was hot and red, driving her onwards. Something else hit her, feeling funny, she punched. Then there was darkness.

 

Hera awoke in the Hospital Wing. She tried opening her eyes but the light was too bright, she instinctively tried to move her hand up to cover her eyes, but it stopped.

Hera opened her eyes again, she looked down to see the manacle chaining her to the bed. She growled softly, her previous anger had vanished, but she didn’t like being locked up. She collapsed back into the mattress.

She heard voices from outside the curtains.

“How could you not tell me, Albus?” Lupin asked. “How could you not tell me that Lily and James’ daughter is a-“

“I am telling you now, Remus.” Said the voice of the headmaster.

“But only after I had to witness all that first hand.” Lupin hissed. “Three stunners to bring her down, and after what form that boggart took…”

“Professors, she’s awake.” Called the familiar voice of Madam Pomfrey from near her side. The two professors entered the curtains. Lupin looking like he’d been forced to compose himself rather quickly.

“Miss Potter,” Dumbledore said. “What exactly do you remember about what happened in Professor Lupin’s classroom?”

She ignored him, seemingly intent on sinking further into her pillows.

“Miss Potter?” Dumbledore said. “Are you asleep or ignoring us?”

She grunted, eyes still closed.

“Please, could you recount what you remember from professor Lupin’s class?” He asked again.

She didn’t want to talk to him, or Lupin, or anyone. But still, a low fear bubbled beneath the surface of her mind, what if she had seriously hurt Ron? Would she be expelled? Would the ministry take her away?

She swallowed.

“Ok.” She relented, her voice croaky. “The boggart turned into the Shrieking Shack, I panicked.”

“Why?” He asked.

“Why?!” She said, her eyes flicked open and stared at him. “You know why.” How could he have forgotten how terribly she had reacted to that place the one time she’d been in there?

“Could you please refresh my memory?” He said, that stupid twinkle in his eyes.

“I couldn’t get out.” She said simply.

“That is the point of the Shrieking Shack.” He said, and she slumped back into the pillows.

“I needed to get out and I couldn’t.” She said, “Usually at the Dursleys I could open my cupboard with magic when I needed to, but while I’m changed I can’t.”

“Cupboard?” Lupin said, rounding on Dumbledore with a confused expression.

“Probably another thing he hasn’t told you.” She spat bitterly. Then she tried to wipe the spit off her face, only to be reminded that she was shackled to the bed. Madam Pomfrey assisted her with a linen handkerchief.

“Back to the class, what happened after you panicked?” Dumbledore asked.

“I collapsed, then I think the professor distracted the boggart.” She said. “Hermione calmed me down a bit, and she was going to bring me here…”

She remembered what Ron had said, and the anger returned briefly, she huffed to herself.

“As I was walking away, Ron Weasley called me a ‘Pathetic Bitch’.” She said. “Then I punched him.”

“Do you think that was an appropriate response?” Dumbledore said.

“I dunno, was it?” She said sarcastically.

“I think you may need some calming draught,” He said. “First the incident over the summer, now this?”

“My Uncle’s sister called my mum a bitch.” She said, before Lupin could enquire.

“And although in the muggle world sexism is rampant,” Dumbledore said. “It has been a long time since it was an issue here.” The look on Madam Pomfrey’s face told a different story.

“Ugh.” Hera said, trying to turn over, once again being reminded of the manacles. She turned back. “Let me out.”

“Only if you can promise you will not attempt to further harm Mr Weasley.” He said, she nodded, and the manacles fell away with a wave of his wand. “Fifty points are to be taken from Gryffindor for your assault of Mr Weasley, and you shall spend the next fortnight’s worth of evenings serving detention with Professor Lupin, starting tonight”

“Wha-“ She was stunned. He couldn’t mean that she wouldn’t be allowed out to hunt? “Sir, the full moon’s in ten days!”

“The next fortnight, Miss Potter.”

 

## Year 3 Chapter 6

After that she was allowed out of the Hospital wing, she saw no full beds, so either Ron had been taken somewhere else, or he was already better. She made her way down to the great hall for dinner. Ron was at the table, he stared at her, but she ignored him and went over to sit with Ginny and Hermione.

“Are you alright, Hera?” Ginny asked. “Hermione told me what happened in defence.”

“Not really,” She admitted, “But I’ll be fine for now.”

“Did they say anything?” Asked Hermione.

“Dumbledore’s got me in detention with Lupin every night for the next two weeks.” She said significantly.

“What?” Hissed Ginny. “He does realise that covers the-“

“Yeah, he probably doesn’t care.”

“I know you’re safe,” Hermione said. “But is that the smartest thing to do?”

“Like I said, he probably doesn’t care.” Hera said. “he just said what he said over the holidays, about how I shouldn’t take me and my mum being called bitches seriously and that sexism is over.”

“Eeesh.” Ginny said. “I’m twelve and I know that’s dung.”

“Oh, there’s something else.” Hera said darkly, chuckling. “Ron’s boggart is you Gin.”

“Oh, I was wondering, it didn’t look like Hera.” Hermione said.

“I should hope he’s scared of me.” She said. Hermione grimaced slightly. The awkward moment was interrupted by Nora coming over to sit with them.

“Ugh.” She said, putting her head down onto the table.

“What’s up?” Hera asked.

“It’s professor Lupin.” She said.

“Oh, yeah.” Hera said, grimacing slightly. She reached out uncertainly and patted her shoulder.

“I mean, how could he not know?” She asked, sitting up. “Why would he think I would find that at all funny?”

“Find what funny?” Ginny asked.

“My boggart’s Snape, and he wanted the class to laugh at him in a dress.” She said. “Dumbledore isn’t letting me sleep where I should, and now teachers are going out of the way to pull ‘jokes’ like that.” Hera’s anger jolted. Nora hadn’t been allowed to room with the other Gryffindor girls, apparently Dumbledore had justified it by saying he didn’t want to take a side.

“From what I saw, your replacement was funnier than anyone elses.” Hera said.

“Absolutely,” Hermione agreed. “Did you see that horrid clown that Parvati turned her cobra into?”

“I wish I hadn’t.” Nora said, perking up a bit.

The dinner passed fairly pleasantly after that, but then it was time for Hera’s first detention with Lupin.

 

Hera trudged up to his office and knocked on the door. She waited a few seconds, then the door was opened by Lupin. He ushered her in, closing the door behind her, and offered a seat in front of her desk. He went back and sat behind it.

There was about half a minute of silence. The seconds ticked past. Finally, she broke the silence.

“So, what am I going to be doing for detention?” she asked.

“I’m not sure, Hera.” He said. “To be honest, I hadn’t planned out any suitable detention activities yet.” Her jaw tightened.

“Well, go ahead.” She said. “Ask your questions. I heard you in the Hospital wing.”

“I- Hera.” He said awkwardly. “You have to understand, i-“

“James and Lily’s daughter is a werewolf…” She repeated. “That’s what you said. Surely you’re curious.”

“I- very well.” He relented. “How did it happen?”

She explained to him her story, about sleeping under the full moon at the Dursley’s after breaking free of her cupboard, about continuing to do so here and taking food out with her, about her first change in the forbidden forest where Hagrid had shot her.

“And unlike what you might have heard,” She said. “I can control myself.”

“What?” Lupin seemed shocked.

“Yeah, Ginny can too.”

“Ginny?”

“Ginny Weasley, I saved her life last year by biting her.” She said.

“No, i-“ He grimaced. “No.”

“Yes.”

“But you can’t, not like…” he said.

“You’re not making any sense.” She said, and he took a deep breath.

“Hera.” He said. “I’m a werewolf, too.”

“Oh. Okay.” She said.

“When I realised you were too, i-“ He said. “I didn’t want you to have to go through it too.”

“Go through it?” She said. “Changing is the best thing in the world for me, with the moon shining down on me, it feels like I can do anything. Maybe you don’t like it, but I do.”

“I- I didn’t realise, I couldn’t.” he said. He was shaking slightly.

“My turn.” Hera said. “How did you know my parents?” It was obvious, he had referred to her as ‘James and Lily’s daughter’ instead of ‘the girl who lived’, or ‘Hera Potter’.

“They were at school with me, in the same year.” Lupin said. “Lily was a friend of mine, even before James and his group of friends. Well, I thought they were all friends.” He looked sadly over to his left.

“James figured out what I was from my monthly disappearances.” He said. “I would go into the Shrieking Shack to transform.”

“No!” she near-shouted. “Why? There’s nowhere worse than there.”

“I couldn’t control myself.” He said. “I returned weakened and hungry, with dim memories of ruining the interior of the shack.”

“I was sent there once.” She said. “After Dumbledore found out I was a werewolf.” She couldn’t imagine how awful staying there twice was, let alone three times a month for her entire schooling. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

“No, it’s alright, I couldn’t control myself, as I’ve said.” He said. “But then James and the rest of our group found out, and they accepted me.”

Hera held her tongue.

“Luckily while I’m teaching here I won’t need to use the Shack.” He said.

“Oh?”

“A rather recent potion invention, the Wolfsbane potion, allows me to keep my human mind when transformed.” He said. “Professor Snape, being a skilled potioneer, has volunteered to brew it for me. But back to you, what do you mean cupboard?”

“My muggle relatives kept me in one until I started receiving Hogwarts letters.” She said. “They don’t anymore, it’s all sorted out.”

“I should hope so.”

“Now they just lock me in a bedroom.” Is what she wanted to casually toss out, but decided against it.

“Listen, what you did in that lesson…” Hera said.

“You were attacking another student.” He said simply.

“I’m not talking about that.” Hera said. “You do know about Nora’s situation, don’t you?”

“Situation?” He asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Until summer just gone, everyone thought she was a boy named Neville.” She said. “She only just figured it out; how do you think she felt when she realised you wanted everyone to laugh at a man in a dress?”

“Does it matter?” he asked. “If she is a girl, then it shouldn’t matter to her.”

“It matters, because that’s what people have been calling her behind her back ever since she arrived this year.”

“But-“ He said. “I had no idea. No Idea about any of it.”

“That doesn’t matter,” She said. “Are you saying that would have been harmless if she wasn’t… like that? What if the other students had seen, then they would have thought you approved of it.”

“I-“ He stammered. “No, I suppose it doesn’t make it any more acceptable that I wasn’t in the know.”

“I thought the teachers were supposed to have some sort of meeting at the start of the year to discuss something like this?” Hera asked.

“No, not that I can remember…” Lupin said. “Please, could you bring her here tomorrow? I feel I must apologise.”

“I can do that.” She said.

The rest of the ‘detention’ continued more amicably, they talked for a little bit, and then Lupin bade her goodnight.

The next night, Hera brought Nora to the beginning of her detention, and Lupin actually gave a heartfelt apology. There were some stumbles, but Nora said it was better than nothing. After Nora left, Lupin suggested that perhaps she just do some homework to pass the time allotted for the detention. She did so, figuring it was a good idea to get ahead while she could.

 

Hera fell back into the school routine over the next few days, she was forced to keep up her ‘detentions’ with Lupin, until the night before the full moon. She had just begun to pack up her herbology assignment when Lupin broached the subject.

“Uh, Hera?” he said tentatively.

“Yes, professor?”

“As you are aware, the headmaster would like you to continue with these detentions for a few more nights.” He said. “I understand you found this most disagreeable, given that…” he mildly flinched before he said “the full moon begins tomorrow.”

“Yeah.” She said. “What of it?”

“Given that he put me in charge of these detentions,” He paused, as if trying to figure out what to say. “It would still be detention if I were out there with you.” She ginned.

“Of course, it would be, Professor.” She said. “I’m sure Ginny would be fine with you tagging along. We’ll bring extra food and meet you in the entrance hall after dinner tomorrow.”

“You have my permission to tell her, it would probably be a little awkward if I turned up suddenly.”

She left the office and walked back to Gryffindor tower. She felt like nothing could wipe the grin from her face. They would have another wolf with them tomorrow! Of course, Lupin might be a bit different to them, given that he was one of those werewolves that couldn’t control themselves. Even the Lupin using the wolfsbane potion might be different to how he would be if he were a werewolf like them. Hermione would probably say it were a conundrum, but she couldn’t wait to get back to the common room and tell Ginny the good news.

She opened the portrait to the common room, found Ginny and pulled her up the dormitory steps to her room.

“Hera, are you okay?” Ginny asked, as Hera withdrew the curtains around her bed, sat down cross-legged, and motioned for Ginny to do the same.

“Yeah, I’m fine, better than fine.” She said. Ginny sat down and closed the curtain. “I’m out of detention for the full moon!”

“Oh, that’s excellent!” She said.

“There is a little catch, though.” Hera said. “Although that’s more a bonus.”

“Okay, what’s the bonus?”

“Lupin’s coming with us.” She said.

“What?” Said Ginny incredulously. “Isn’t he afraid of being bitten?”

“That’s the thing.” Hera grinned. “He already has been. He’s a werewolf too.”

“Oh, cool.” She said. “Wait… how?”

“Well I didn’t ask about the specifics, from what he told me it would be a bit rude.”

“No, not that.” Ginny clarified. “How is he here, in Hogwarts; that law the Wizengamut passed back in April made it basically illegal for werewolves to hold certain positions, and I’m fairly sure ‘teacher’ would be high on the list for those bigots forcing it through.”

“He might be keeping it a secret?” Hera suggested.

“I don’t know how he could do that.” Ginny said, “The national werewolf registry is open to the public, and if he attended here, he would have to be on it.”

“Wait, wizards hate werewolves and they just keep a list of them around that anyone can look at?” Hera said, annoyed. “Whose idiot idea was that?”

“Newt Scamander.”

“Wait, that guy who wrote our ‘Fantastic Beasts’ textbook?” Hera asked.

“The very same.”

“Would we be on there?” she asked.

“I’m not sure.” Ginny said. “But it’s a magic register, maybe we would need to have been turned by a known werewolf?”

The discussion about the Werewolf Register got nowhere fast, and Ginny soon said goodnight to Hera and headed off to her own bed.


	4. Year 3 Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of 2 of Prisoner of Azkaban.

## Year 3 Chapter 7

They all met in the entrance hall the next day after dinner. Lupin turned up last, as apparently Snape had delivered the wolfsbane potion to his office, and he had to go back to take it.

Hera and Ginny lead Lupin out to the standing stones, weighed down by bags a lot heavier than normal. They hadn’t known how much meat an adult werewolf would want, so they brought more; even if it wasn’t enough, they could hunt for some more, even if Lupin’s human mind didn’t know how to.

The moon emerged from behind a cloud halfway to the stones, and Hera took a moment to enjoy the light filling her. She grinned to Ginny.

“Wha- what is that?” Lupin said from behind them.

“hmm?”

“Why do I feel all strange?” He asked.

“It’s the moon?” Ginny said, not really understanding what Lupin meant.

“Here we are.” Hera said as they reached the standing stones. She began chucking the meat in her bag around on the grass. She looked to Lupin. “We take this out before, it’s cleaner this way.” Then she put her bag over by one of the stones and sat on the grass, staring up at the moon. Ginny moved over to join her.

“Come on, come sit down.” Hera said to Lupin. He slowly made his way over and sat cross-legged next to them. “Once we start changing, we usually split up to avoid seeing each other naked.”

“Ah, that makes sense.” He said.

“Oh, you’ll probably recognise me.” Ginny said. “I’m apparently my brother’s boggart.”

“What?” he said, apparently stunned. “but Mr Weasley’s boggart wasn’t a werewolf?”

“No, of course it was.” Hera said, “I’ve seen Ginny before.”

“But-what?” He said. “Oh, your own conditions are quite different to mine, that’s why I didn’t realise.”

Hera felt the moon overhead, and she began to change.

“It’s time.” Hera said and crawled over behind one of the stones.

She loosened her school tie, kicked off her shoes, and let the change take her.

Hera’s bones began to shift beneath her skin, changing her limbs into those of a wolf. Her face was forced outwards as if formed a muzzle, and teeth sharpened into fangs. Thick ruddy fur sprouted from her skin, and a tail pushed out of her spine. She shook her clothes off as the final changes settled into place, instincts kicking in.

Hera rounded the stone to see Ginny already there. She padded up to her and greeted her with a lick on her shoulder. Ginny returned the lick, then tackled her to the ground playfully. Hera shook her off and yipped.

Hera’s ears perked up. There was a whining coming from somewhere. She could smell something horrible from behind one of the stones. She looked behind it, and there was another werewolf there. Lupin, she remembered. He looked terrible, emaciated and bald. What was more he wasn’t even changed properly, he seemed stuck. It was like he couldn’t make it over that final part of the change, he was still mostly bipedal, and much smaller than he should be. He looked up at her. She understood what the smell was, he was practically dying.

He needed to eat, she waved her head to get him to come over to the meat. He didn’t move.

Hera growled, then went over to one of the pieces of meat, took it in her jaws and brought it over to him. Lupin reluctantly took it and started nibbling on it. She went to another piece of meat and brought it over. She did the same again, until there was a small pile of meat in front of him.

She had put off her own hunger long enough, she took a steak for herself, and began to eat, keeping Lupin in sight to make sure he did so too. He slowly began eating quicker, getting over his nervousness. He didn’t eat much, but his ears began to perk up slightly towards the end of the small pile.

She got to her feet and bounced slightly, it was time to hunt. Ginny came over and poked Hera in the shoulder with her snout. Hera looked questioningly, and Ginny motioned towards the trees, indicating the presence of prey. Hera yipped softly, then looked back to Lupin, she motioned with her head, ‘Follow’.

She and Ginny trotted off towards the trees, Lupin trailing along, somewhat awkwardly and reluctantly. Ginny was in the lead, she had the scent. Hera veered off to the right as Ginny jerked her head that way.

Hera caught a whiff of a rabbit somewhere in the trees. It was somewhere off to her left, she entered the forest and focused on locating the source of the scent while keeping a wide berth. Ginny moved in from the scent’s left, Lupin just stood outside the trees.

She spotted the approaching Ginny through the foliage, she was in position for Hera to scare the rabbit right into her jaws.

The rabbit seemed to be foraging, then its ears pricked up. Lupin had blundered his way into the forest. The rabbit ran, Hera and Ginny shot after it, ducking around trees to stay on its far nimbler tail; unfortunately, it was not to be, it shot into a deep burrow a few seconds later.

The two werewolves returned to the edge of the forest, with Lupin standing rather sheepishly. Hera rolled her eyes, of course he wasn’t used to hunting.

The sound probably having warned every critter in the area, they headed back to the stone circle. She took some bites out of the leftover meat, then set Lupin to eating some more.

Hera sat down on the edge of the hilltop, gazing at the moon. This never got old, every month she could just look up at that bright circle in the sky. She felt a howl start in her throat, Ginny joined her soon after. The sound went out across the grounds. Non-were wolves in the forest joined them in the chorus.

The howl wound to a close and Hera stood up. She trotted over to a patch of clear grass near the stone that her belongings were behind, she turned around several times, patting down the grass. When satisfied, she lay down. Ginny did the same, and Lupin followed their example.

 

Hera awoke just after dawn, trying not to look at Ginny or Lupin, she crept around the stone to dress for the coming day. She crept back around the stone and, with her eyes shut, poked Ginny in the head.

“Whassit?” She said sleepily.

“Ginny, it’s morning.” Hera said. “Go get dressed and I’ll wake the professor.” Ginny ducked behind her stone. Hera drew her wand and squinted so hard everything blurred, she aimed and shot a stinging hex at the professor. She closed her eyes as Lupin let out an exclamation. “Professor Lupin, it’s morning.”

“Oh, yes, of course.” He said, and hurried behind the stone to get dressed. Hera gathered up her bag and waited for the other two to be ready to head back in to the castle. She looked around and levitated some meat scraps off into the ravine behind them, she would probably not need to bring so much that night, given Lupin’s… sickness? Something like that, he needed to eat more than he had the previous night, that was for sure.

Soon enough they were all ready, and began to walk back into the castle to have breakfast.

“So, how was it?” Hera asked.

“It was…” Lupin paused. “Different. The moon felt good; almost too good.”

“You’ve never changed under the moon before?” Ginny said incredulously.

“Well, I’ve never changed under it, but there were a few times…” He trailed off and clamped shut, however, he did promise to come with them tonight.

Ginny and Hera found Hermione at the Gryffindor table.

“So, how did it go?” She asked, offering them some juice.

“He’s pretty different looking than us, he’s so thin, practically hairless.” Hera said. “I’d be worried he was sick if he hadn’t insisted that was normal for werewolves. Well, I did think he was sick, sort of, I made sure he had something to eat, at least.”

“He messed up the hunt though.” Ginny whispered annoyedly. “That’s the first time I haven’t caught something.”

“He’s just not used to it, I guess.” Hermione said, “from what you said, Hera, he probably has some sort of Shrieking Shack back at home… if he has a home.”

“Either way, with the wolfsbane potion Snape’s brewing him he should be fine to get in some practice.”

That next two nights went similar to the previous, with Hera insisting Lupin eat and hunt with them. It wasn’t until the next full moon in October that something unusual happened.

Hera walked around the rock where Lupin had changed, only to find a different looking werewolf there. He was still emaciated and balding, but he actually had the build of a wolf, he was on all fours, the long finger-like claws he possessed previously were now paws. He seemed confused and unused to moving around on four legs.

She barked happily, and this time he went to the meat without her having to bring it to him. he began to chomp it down and, internally, she smiled. He was getting better, the smell of death leaving him.

The hunt was successful, unlike the previous moon, Ginny managed to catch the very rabbit that evaded them the previous month. Lupin’s new statue allowing him to sneak in from the side while Hera surprised it from deeper in the forest. Ginny’s jaws closed around it, breaking its neck instantly. She took a bite and swallowed, she stepped back so the other two could take some meat, and let out a great howl to the moon. Hera swallowed and joined; then, quite unexpectedly, so did Lupin.

The forest wolves continued the song as the three of them ate more of the freshly caught rabbit.

 

The next full moon fell on the thirty-first, the first Hogsmeade weekend of term. Hera had been looking into a way for Ginny to get past the dementors at the school gates, even Hera was a little nervous about going past them; she didn’t want to think about the Shrieking Shack any more than she had to.

Finally, she became desperate.

“Well what on earth would a upstanding girl like you-“ Said Fred or George.

“Want with information on secret passages to the village?” Said George or Fred.

“Listen, I want to find a way for Ginny to get out there.” Hera said.

“We’ve heard she’s a bit ‘out there’ these days.” One of the twins said.

“And that you’ve been accompanying her.” The other said. Hera pursed her lips.

“Yeah, I thought you probably would have.” She said. “Also, the dementors give me the creeps, but I suppose you heard about that too?”

“Okay, here’s our proposal-“ the first twin said.

“We give Ginny something that will let her get out to Hogsmeade-“ The second continued.

“And is really quite valuable in a lot of other ways-“ The first moved over to the other’s other side to say this, as if they wanted to trick her into thinking that there was a third Weasley twin.

“If you ride with us down to Hogsmeade and clue us in better than she has.” The second twin moved this time. Hera sighed.

“Fine, but only the one trip, I want to be able to go back through the secret passageway.” Hera said.

“Pleasure doing business with you-“ One said.

“To be fair we should have given it to Ginny before now.” the other said.

“What with Ron being such a prat and all-“

“There’s no way we’d give it to him.”

“Listen I know that thing’s your whole… thing,” Hera said, rather annoyed. “But it’s kinda confusing to have to shift back and forth every few seconds.”

“Alright then.”

“Oi, Ginny!” one of the twins called across the common room.

Fred and George pulled the pair into an empty classroom and revealed what they called the ‘secret to their success’. It was a large piece of parchment, albeit folded oddly; but then they demonstrated, with the code phrase that it was no ordinary parchment, but a map of the school, that showed where people were on it in the form of little footsteps.

The next day Ginny set off from the entrance hall to the statue of the one-eyed witch on the third floor, which concealed a secret passageway to the cellar of Honeydukes; and Hera, Hermione, Nora, and the Twins set off on the track to Hogsmeade.

Hera told her story to the twins, starting with breaking out of her cupboard at Privet Drive, and ending before she revealed anything about Lupin. She even managed to mostly ignore the two dementors standing outside the gates.

Their exchange complete, the twins marched ahead, eager to get to Zonko’s joke shop. The three of them made their way over to Honeydukes to meet up with Ginny.

Hera wasn’t sure she had ever seen so many different varieties of confectionary in her life, let alone one place. She bought a box of chocolate cauldrons filled with marshmallow, and was just wondering if she would like blood-flavoured lollipops when Ginny revealed herself from beneath Hera’s invisibility cloak.

“Hiya.” She said.

“How was the secret passage?” Hera asked.

“Fine, I guess,” Ginny said “I just needed to be careful when leaving both ways.”

They looked around the shop for a little longer and Ginny bought a bag of Fizzing Whizzbees, before they left to look around the other shops in the village.

Nora managed to drag them into Dogweed and Deathcap, a herbology shop, where she got into a discussion with the owner about the effects of ambient temperature cycles in growing Fanged Geraniums. Hermione decided to pick up some seeds of a remarkably pretty, but not obviously magical, flowering plant to send home to her parents. Hera and Ginny spent most of the time trying not to breathe in through their noses.

They made a brief stop in Dervish and Bangs, the Wizarding equipment shop, for Hermione to pick up some ink and parchment.

Then they headed to Gladrags Wizardwear. Hera sidled up to Nora flicking through a rack of dresses.

“Seen anything you like?” Hera asked.

“A few things.” Nora said, and craned her head to look around the store. “I’m not sure if the changing room is free yet, though.”

“No, I think it’s free,” Hera said, also looking over to the change room. “and the couch in front is free, we can tell you if we like the things you picked.”

“Thanks, Hera.” Nora said. “I think I might just look for a bit longer.”

“Hey, Hera!” Ginny came over, holding a pair of rather luridly coloured socks. “Look at these! They’ve got a whole wall of them over there.”

“Awesome.” Hera said, then turned back to Nora. “Call me over when you’re going to try stuff on.”

She let herself be led over to the wall of funny socks by Ginny. She saw Hermione going over to talk to Nora. She and Ginny had a nice time looking through the silly designs, and stifled their chuckles at a little pair with gnomes stitched into one of the socks.

A few minutes later, Hermione came over to them.

“Hera,” She asked. “Can you go grab some things to try on?”

“Why?” She asked, “I don’t need anything.”

“Just do it for me, please?” She said, and Hera relented, picking out some things from the nearest rack in her size.

She walked back over to Hermione, who was back talking with Nora.

“I’ve got some things to try on.” She said.

“Oh, excellent.” Hermione said. “You go change into the first one and we’ll sit down to watch.”

Not entirely sure why she was doing this, Hera ducked into the changeroom and hung the garments she had picked out up on one of the hooks. She closed the door and changed into one of the blouses from the rack. It was a fairly light material, with some ruffles going down the front, and it was sleeveless. She had to admit, for something she picked out at near-random, she kind of liked it. She unlocked the door and ventured out.

“Awesome!” Ginny said.

“I like it.” Hera said.

“Hmm…” Hermione said, “I don’t know if I would wear it, but if you like it…” she shrugged.

“It’s nice.” Said Nora, smiling.

Hera ducked back inside the changeroom and swapped out to the next piece of clothing. It continued like that for some time, with the other three girls giving their feedback, and Hera deciding yea or nay. Soon she was finished all the clothes she picked out and put most of them on a rack by the changeroom where an assistant would later return them to their shelves.

Apart from the nice blouse she also liked a black button up shirt with a pattern of little flowers that turned into strawberries with a tap of her wand.

“Your turn, Nora.” Hermione encouraged, and Nora got up and went into the change room.

“So, I’m guessing that me trying on things has something to do with Nora?” Hera whispered to Hermione after she sat down in Nora’s spot on the couch.

“She’s just been a bit nervous.” Hermione said. “So, I wanted you to dress up first to show her that there’s nothing to be scared of.”

“Oh, ok.” Hera said. She hadn’t realised before, but now Hermione said it… Earlier Nora had probably been trying to delay trying things on. She frowned, feeling sorry for her.

A few seconds past and Nora opened the door gingerly. She was wearing a plain black skirt and a blue blouse. She left the change room so they could have a better look.

Hera smiled. She looked nice, and all the nervousness couldn’t hide the small smile on Nora’s own face.

“Excellent.” Hermione said. “I like the combination of black and blue; have you got any tights to go with the skirt?”

“Not yet.” Nora said.

“Twirl!” requested Ginny, and Nora did so, the skirt flaring out slightly. Nora’s smile grew wider.

“You’re adorable, Nora.” Hera said, smiling.

 

They ate lunch in the Three Broomsticks, a small inn and tavern. Hermione decided on a Cornish pasty, and Nora a bowl of pea and ham soup, saving room for the Halloween feast that evening. Hera saw someone order a comically large turkey leg and grinned, she knew what she was having. Ginny gently requested a Shepard’s pie, which Hera was only too happy to pay for. They sat down and a rather busty woman came over to take their order.

“Hello dears,” She said. “I’m Madam Rosmerta, the owner; how can I help you all today?”

“Could I have a Cornish pasty, please?” Hermione said, there was an awkward silence, then she jabbed Hera in the ribs.

“Ah- ah, one of the turkey legs, please.” Hera said.

“A Shepard’s pie.”

“And pea and ham soup, too, please.”

“Any drinks for you ladies?” She said.

“Butterbeer?” Hermione said, glancing around the table; Ginny and Nora nodded.

“Sorry, what’s butterbeer?” Hera said.

“Four butterbeers then please.” Hermione said. Madam Rosmerta walked off to get their things. “Butterbeer is… well, you’ll see.”

Hera craned her neck over to the bar, trying to see if Rosmerta was coming back with their drinks. She then spotted someone at the bar, also staring at Rosmerta.

“Eugh, Ron’s here.” Since their encounter in DADA, whatever had remained of their once friendship was gone. She preferred it this way.

“Do you think I’ll have to duck under?” Ginny asked, sliding down in her seat slightly.

“Probably not, he’s got something else he’s looking at.” Hera said bitterly, she didn’t like that he was looking at Rosmerta. Something about it made her angry; Hera took several deep breaths, refocussed her attention away from Ron, and back to talking with the rest of the girls.

Rosmerta brought over their butterbeers, and Hera was distracted from Ron.

One lunch later, while clutching their purchases, the group made their way back into Honeydukes. Hera decided to risk the dementors again and said goodbye to Ginny, who snuck back down to the Honeydukes basement under Hera’s invisibility cloak, clutching the Marauder’s Map.

 

After the spectacular Halloween feast Hera met Lupin and Ginny in the entrance hall. They ducked out a side door as the students filed off and made their way out to the stone circle.

They changed as the moon rose, and Hera was pleased to see that Lupin, while still thin, was not overly so, and he had gained large patches of grey-brown hair. They ate the meat they had brought, and Ginny smelt prey somewhere over by the lake. She and Lupin trotted off towards it through the forest for better concealment, Hera was about to follow them when she saw something out of the corner of her eye.

Up near the stone circle, it was running off towards the Whomping willow, and looked like some sort of canine. She wondered if it were another werewolf, but it was not like any werewolf she had seen, not even like Lupin before he started changing with them. The shaggy black fur reminded her of something. It passed into the secret passage, and she put it from her mind; the hunt was what was important now, and ran off after the others.

 

When they entered the entrance hall the next morning, they were surprised to see that all the students were already there. Not at the breakfast tables, but in sleeping bags spread across the great hall. Lupin walked over to Dumbledore, who was standing just outside the hall.

“Headmaster?” he said. “What has happened here?”

“I am afraid, Remus,” Dumbledore answered. “That while the feast was going on, Sirius Black broke into the castle and attempted to enter the Gryffindor Common room. We felt it was safer for the students to sleep here tonight while we search the castle.”

“Sirius was here?” Lupin asked, wanting to be sure.

“He was. We are just about to wake the students and send them back to their dormitories, then I should like to talk to you and the other teachers about what has happened further.”

“Yes, sir.” Lupin said. Dumbledore turned to Hera and Ginny.

“I trust your escapades went uninterrupted?” He asked.

“Yeah.” Hera said.

“I would like you to accompany your housemates back to Gryffindor tower.” He said. “Breakfast will be a little later today.”

 

## Year 3 Chapter 8

The whole school was abuzz that day. How had Sirius Black gotten in? During the late breakfast Hera wondered aloud momentarily if he had used one of the secret passageways.

“No way, the owners live above the shop.” Ginny said. “They would have heard a break in.”

“He may have gone for Gryffindor tower,” Hera said. “but how did he expect to get past the girl’s staircase?” A possibility arose and Nora addressed it.

“It’s possible that Black could be in a similar situation to what I was,” Said Nora. “But if he was then why not go through with a ritual? My nan told me his family was loaded.”

“He could also just not be thinking clearly, from Azkaban and the dementors.” Ginny said. “Every time my dad goes there, he has to take a day off after.”

“Hera, Ginny, could I have a word?” It was Lupin.

“Sure, we’ll be right back.” Hera said, getting up from the table.

As Hera moved away from the table, it seemed like someone had been waiting for her to leave, as Ron sat down and started talking loudly at Hermione. Hera did her best to pay it no mind and followed Lupin out to a close disused classroom.

“We can’t go out again tonight.” He said.

“What?” Hera said.

“Especially you, Hera.” He said. “It was risky when Sirius was on the loose, now we know he’s gotten in the castle it’s downright dangerous.”

“We’re blooming great werewolves out there, what’s a guy who’s been in prison for ten years going to do?” Ginny asked incredulously.

“Not the whole time,” Lupin said. “We turn back before we wake, he could wait until then.”

“He sees a group of werewolves bed down for the night and decides to stake them out in case one is me?” Hera asked. “Don’t you think news of me being a werewolf would have made headlines or something?” she said sarcastically. Then added, “And yes, I know he’s after me.”

“I- I don’t know what Sirius is thinking.” Lupin said.

“We’re no safer in the castle either,” Hera said. “Do you just expect us to change in our beds and hope no one pulls back the curtain when they hear the noise? And having a four-poster bed for all the space you’re allowed in for the night is way worse than the Shrieking Shack.”

“And you’re making such good progress too!” Ginny said. “It hurts less now, doesn’t it?”

“It does, but-“

“No buts.” Hera declared. “If it makes you feel better you can go out and make us invisible shelters or something for us to use.”

“Either way we’re going out again tonight, without you or not.” Ginny said.

“I- damnit.” Lupin said. “You’re probably right.”

“No probably about it.”

 

So, reluctantly on Lupin’s part, they met in the entrance hall that night and made their way out to the stone circle. Lupin had constructed a series of lean-to style shelters in the shadows of the standing stones, he taped them with his wand and they shimmered, suddenly translucent.

“Besides, there’s no way Sirius would still be inside the grounds so soon after security just got upped.” Ginny said as they all began to transform.

 

The portrait of the Fat Lady outside the Gryffindor common room had been replaced with that of an incompetent knight. Hermione idly wondered why she was just referred to as the ‘Fat Lady’, when this knight got his own name.

“He changes the password too often.” Nora complained at breakfast a week later. “I can never remember them, and I swear he sometimes does it three times a day.”

“Talk to professor McGonagall after transfiguration this morning.” Hermione suggested.

“She wouldn’t even move me out of the boy’s dormitory when I complained about Seamus being a creep.” She said. “Why would she listen now?”

“We’ll go with you,” Hera said, “It’s really annoying, I can understand increasing security, but this just makes it more likely that someone will be trapped outside since they don’t know the password Cadogan decided on five minutes before they got there.”

“And I’ll jinx Seamus for you.” Ginny said. “I’ve been meaning to practice.”

 

Despite their complaints to McGonagall, Sir Cadogan stayed in place and switching passwords as he felt like it. Seamus, however, was admitted to the Hospital Wing when bats started crawling out of his nose in the middle of a corridor.

For once in her life, Hera was not at the centre of something dangerous. Over a weekend in early November a flock of dementors had entered the grounds and flown to the Quidditch Pitch. Dumbledore was reportedly furious at them. Although Hera had been inside the castle studying at the time, the news unnerved her.

She asked Lupin about the dementors after a DADA class.

“Dementors are one of the foulest creatures that… well, not walk this earth, they float.” He said. “But you get the idea.”

“I kind of got that when one showed up on the train.” Hera said.

“Dementors feed on happy memories.” He explained, and began packing up his things to go down to lunch. “And when they have momentarily been stripped from someone’s higher consciousness, there is only the bad left.”

“And?” she asked, urging him to continue.

“The dementors affect you so, I believe, because of the overwhelming amount of bad memories you have.” He said. “I know you don’t like to talk about your aunt and uncle, but growing up with them can’t have been very pleasant, from what you have told me.”

“Yeah. It was bad.” She admitted. “But it got lots better when I came here. Now I only have to deal with it three months of the year.”

“That’s still too much, in my opinion.” Lupin said.

“Take it up with Dumbledore, he’s the one who put me there, and wants me going back every summer.” She said. “Something about wards linked in to my mother’s sacrifice or something.”

“Anyway, dementors.” Lupin changed the subject back, looking at her awkwardly. “There are ways to repel dementors, but the only one you’d have a chance at one of them; a rather difficult charm.”

“Anything not to have to see or remember the Shrieking Shack again.” Hera said jokingly.

“It will be difficult without a real dementor, but I think you may be able to learn.” He said. “Meet me in my office tomorrow night after dinner.”

 

And she did.

“The Charm I am going to be teaching you is called ‘The Patronus Charm’” Lupin said. “When conjured properly it can serve as a physical guardian against dementors, but imperfect versions can be effective at holding them at bay.”

“Cool.” She said.

“I will demonstrate.” He drew his wand, held it out at a slight upwards angle, and intoned. “ _Expecto Patronum_.” A glowing silvery-white wolf emerged from Lupin’s wand, it looked rather a lot like him when he was changed. “Hmm, it’s different.”

“Different?”

“Well, corporeal Patronuses generally take the form of animals.” He explained. “Mine used to be… well, more like myself when I transformed.”

“But it is like you when you change.” Hera said. “That’s changed too.”

“I suppose you’re right.” He said. The wolf walked around the area before Lupin cancelled it with a wave of his wand. “And Patronuses have been known to change when someone goes through an emotional event.”

He switched back to the subject of casting. “The key to casting the Patronus charm is the use of a memory, an extraordinarily happy memory.”

“Great.” Hera said sarcastically.

“It will also take practice.” He said, ignoring her remark. “And when facing a dementor it will be even more difficult.”

“Like I said, great.”

“Try selecting a memory.” He said.

Hera sat down and tried thinking, there weren’t many super happy memories that she could chose from. Perhaps her first change? The moon overhead, meeting Firenze, her first hunt. That seemed very happy. She stood up and drew her wand.

“Have you selected a memory?” Lupin asked.

“Yeah, I’m ready to try.” She said, and focussed on that memory of her very first night as a wolf, a Lunarche, Firenze had called it. She remembered the feeling of the moonlight inside her, just like she could feel now, only so much more back then. “Expect-“

She dropped her wand as her hand turned into a paw.

“Hera?!” Lupin gasped. He instantly began to think, “Swishy.” He said politely, and a house elf appeared next to him. “We need some steaks, raw please.” The elf gave out a squeak and vanished, returning few seconds later with a platter, then vanishing quickly.

Hera meanwhile, was changing, her mind churned with the oncoming rush of instincts. The change slowed and she shook her clothes off.

“Hera?” Lupin said. She barked. He levitated a steak over to her and she snatched it out of the air. He did so with the rest, and she happily ate them up, before going over to lick the blood off the metal platter. “Hera? Are you there?”

She barked again. She was here.

“Did- did you change on purpose?” He asked, she wobbled her head then nodded then wobbled, trying to convey a ‘sort of’ answer. “Can you change back?”

Back? She had before, down in the chamber, how had she done that? She felt the moonlight inside of her… much less than she would have like, she should go outside and run some. No, she needed to change back. She felt the moonlight and gently, while promising that she would go for a run outside soon, let it lower itself from the forefront of her being.

She changed back, Lupin averted his eyes politely. Two changes in less than ten minutes were fairly tiring.

“Thanks, sorry that’s kind of embarrassing.” She said, dressing while sitting on the floor. “And to properly answer your question, I think that time might have been an accident, but I have changed on purpose outside the full moon before.”

“When?” He inquired.

“Last year, I was rescuing Ginny from the Chamber of Secrets when I had to fight a Basilisk.” She said simply.

“How?”

“I just climbed up behind it’s neck and started tearing it’s flesh out.” She said. “But Ginny got some venom on her anyway, that’s when I bit her.”

“You are perhaps the strangest werewolf I’ve ever met, Hera Potter.” He laughed. “But what do you mean by accident?”

“I think…” Hera said, planning out her sentence. “I think it might have been my chosen memory, my first change, and I was concentrating on feeling the moon as a wolf for the first time. I guess that’s enough to trigger a change.”

“Interesting.” Lupin said. “Perhaps you could try a memory that isn’t from the full moon?”

“Hmm…” She said. “I probably could, but to be honest; I’m sorry professor, I’m just too tired at the moment.” She flopped flat on the floor, fully dressed.

“Perhaps another night, think up another memory in the meantime.” He said, and called Swishy again to help Hera get back to Gryffindor tower, the elf looked quite relieved that she was back in her human form.

 

On the last weekend of term in December there was another Hogsmeade weekend. Hera looked up defiantly at the dementors guarding the gates to Hogwarts. The snow had covered the ground in a layer of white powder, and just like last time, Hera, Hermione and Nora met up with Ginny inside Honeydukes. They then set up along the high street.

Hermione stopped in at Dervish and Bangs to get more ink and parchment again. Ginny managed to convince them to take a look in Zonko’s. But unless you wanted dungbombs, which they didn’t, it turned out to be a bit of a joke.

They then decided to split up and do Christmas shopping. Hera bought Ginny a book of hexes and jinxes, Hermione a fancy quill to go with all her parchment and ink, and Nora… Nora she was still figuring out, it seemed a little obvious to buy her something herbology related, she relented and asked the Shopkeeper Nora had spoken to their previous visit about what he would recommend. She walked out with a book on tropical plants.

The four met up and went into the three broomsticks for lunch again. While she was buying drinks Hera also bought, but was not allowed to take, a bottle of fire-whiskey for Hagrid. Madam Rosmerta promised him that she would set it aside and owl it to Hagrid herself.

They had just settled down with drinks when the door opened, letting a blast of cold air into the put, and in walked professors McGonagal, Flitwick, Hagrid, and the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge. She had seen him once before, last year when he was arresting Hagrid to seem like he was doing something about the Chamber of Secrets.

Hermione quietly hovered a Christmas tree between their booth and the table the four sat down at, to hide Ginny.

But it was Hera they weren’t expecting to see there, and she heard all of their conversation. About Sirius Black being her godfather, her father’s best friend, the one who had betrayed him and Lily to Voldemort, and the murderer of the last of the four friends, Peter Pettigrew.

She said nothing, it was like time had just stopped. Why had they not told her? Why had Lupin not told her? She stood up. He had to have owed her at least that, she had been helping him these past few months, and he just thought she shouldn’t know?

Finally, she understood, at least, why Mr Weasley wanted her to promise she wouldn’t go looking for Black, no matter what she heard. She pushed the Christmas tree aside.

“Screw you all.” She said. McGonagall didn’t care about her, and Hagrid, Hagrid had shot her, she was just an animal to him, like all the others magical creatures in his class.

“Hera?” Hagrid said, shocked.

She strode over to the bar, reached over it and grabbed the bottle of Fire-Whiskey that Rosmerta had set aside for Hagrid for her. She paid no attention to the teachers, or her friends calling after her and left the pub.

She stormed up the street, blindly walking away. The bottle clutched in her hand pleasantly heavy. She walked right through a group of students and into a side street. She followed it out into a clearing near a copse of trees.

Hera sat down on a fallen log. Anger burned hot within her. How dare they? She thought she was done with knowing less about her life than everyone else, but apparently that wasn’t the case. This always seemed to happen to her.

“Argh.” She groaned, she couldn’t even find the right words to stoke the anger in her head. She grabbed the bottle and uncorked it. She took a drink and promptly spat it out onto the snow. That stuff was foul. She had no idea how people could drink it. She threw it back down in the snow and it tipped over, alcohol spilling onto the snow. She grabbed it and set it upright in a pile of snow. She may not like it, but spilling it was bad. The snow around the stream of alcohol melted quickly, disrupting the otherwise snow-covered landscape. She spat again into it, trying to rid her mouth of the taste.

And then there was Sirius Black himself. He was the reason she had never known her parents. He had taken her mother away. She wanted him hurt. She wanted to do it.

“Hera?!” She heard someone cry in the distance. She stayed quiet. “Hera!” Ginny exited the alleyway, she ran up. “Hera.” She sat down on the log next to her.

“I-“ Hera tried to speak.

“No, it’s okay.” Ginny said, and wrapped her arms around Hera. “You don’t have to speak, it’s okay.” She squeezed tighter. It was nice, but…

“They lied to me.” Hera said.

“I know.” Ginny said. Hera noticed her glance at the bottle of fire whiskey.

“I bought it for Hagrid.” She said. “It’s disgusting.”

Ginny chuckled. “Yeah”

Hera felt her breathing start to slow. Her mind went blank, just enjoying being here with Ginny.

“Hera!” A voice yelled from some distance away.

“That’s Hermione, do you want me to go get her?” Ginny asked.

“I- I don’t want you to go.” She said.

“Should I call out to her?”

“Yes, please.”

“Hermione!” Ginny shouted. “Over here!”

A few seconds passed and Hermione and Nora came through the alley. They walked over to her.

“I just need some quiet.” Hera said, before Hermione could speak. Nora sat down on the opposite side of the log to Ginny and wrapped her in a hug too.

Hermione drew her wand and cast a quiet ‘ _Scourgify_ ’ at the alcohol on the ground. She knelt down upon the now clean snow and put her hand on Hera’s knee.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, with Hera just listening to her friend’s breathing. Her mind flashed back to nearly two years ago. To the mirror of Erised, surrounded by friends; belonging. She remembered what else she had seen in the mirror and felt a bubble of… was its embarrassment? No, wanting.

“Thank you.” Hera said finally. “I’m sorry I ran off back there.”

“It’s okay, Hera.” Hermione said. “That wasn’t something you’d expect to hear there, and panicking is a perfectly acceptable reaction.”

“I’m sorry about all that stuff.” Nora said. “but please, trust me when I say you shouldn’t go after him. Black was one of Voldemort’s main followers, he’s a way more powerful wizard than you are.” Hera clenched her jaw.

“Not all the time.” She said darkly.

“Hera…” Nora said.

“I wouldn’t even need to wait to the full moon,” She said. “I can change when I like.”

“That’s how you saved me in the chamber.” Ginny said, half realising, half confirming.

“Yeah, at least, I think; I’ve only done it at night, maybe… I don’t know.”

“That’s extraordinary, Hera.” Hermione said.

“Hera,” Nora said. “That’s not what I meant. You know how I live with my grandmother?”

Ginny flinched. “Nora, are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.” Nora said. “You’re my best friends, and I don’t think I could have gotten through this past term without you three.”

Hera put one of her arms around Nora, resting it on her side.

“I don’t regret the ritual, far from it.” She said. “But having you three here has made everyone’s taunting easier to bear, just treating me like I’m a real girl.”

“You are a real girl.” Hermione said.

“Thanks, Hermione.” Nora said. “Well, my parents are in St Mungo’s Hospital. Just after Voldemort vanished, so-some of his followers found them and… and…”

“It’s okay, Nora.” Hera said, squeezing tighter like Ginny had for her.

“They can’t even recognize me, not that they probably would now anyway.” She said. “The one who did it, Bellatrix Lestrange; she is… was in Azkaban with him.”

“Nora, I’m so sorry.” Hermione said, and took her hand.

“I’m just, I’m just trying to say I know what it’s like, Hera.” Nora said. “Please, don’t go after him.”

“You’re right.” Hera said. “I promise you I won’t go after Black.” She couldn’t go after him, she couldn’t leave Nora like that.

They sat there in silence for a few more minutes before Ginny suggested they go back up to the castle.

 

## Year 3 Chapter 9

The four of them had the run of the Gryffindor common room over the holidays, in fact, all of Hogwarts seemed deserted. Which was fine by them; they took advantage of the fact by grabbing Ginny and Nora’s mattresses from their beds and moving them to the floor of the second-year girl’s dormitory. With no one there to report them, why not?

It certainly helped that McGonagall was avoiding Hera’s eye. But all the same, enduring the guilty looks got a bit too much to bear after a week of avoiding meeting any of the teachers’ eyes. Finally, she decided to go visit Hagrid a few days before Christmas. She took the half-empty bottle of Fire whiskey too. To be honest she had gotten stuck on thinking of it as a metaphor.

She knocked on the door gently. It opened and once again Hera found herself face to face with Hagrid’s crossbow.

“Didn’t this happen last year?” She said dryly, this hadn’t gotten off to a good start.

“Oh, uh.” He muttered, putting the crossbow away. “Sorry, I’ve been trying to keep me guard up in case…”

“In case of Sirius Black.” Hera said. “Can we come in?”

“I suppose so.” He said and let them in. Once they had all sat down and been offered tea and rock cakes, Hera mentioned the elephant in the room.

“Sirius Black.” She said certainly.

Hagrid sighed, like he thought if she hadn’t mentioned it, she didn’t know.

“Yeah.” He said. “It’s not like I didn’t want you to know.”

“But now I do.”

“Dumbledore said, and I agreed, that you might do something reckless if you knew.” He said.

“How did you think that?” Hera asked, mildly offended.

“To be fair, you did go to rescue me from the chamber on no knowledge of what might be there.” Ginny said.

“And you led me, Hermione, and the-prat-who-must-not-be-named down to try to protect the Stone in first year.” Nora said.

“Alright, I get your point.” Hera said. “And I admit I was going to, until you three found me.”

“You three?” Hagrid said. “But Ginny’s not allowed in Hogsmeade yet.”

“Let’s just be thankful I was then.” Ginny said, pointedly looking at Hagrid.

“I don’t want to be lied to again, Hagrid.” Hera said. “The Dursleys kept everything about my parents, about Hogwarts, about the wizarding world from me… I don’t want to think that you’re anything like them.”

“Oh Hera, I’m sorry.” He said. “I didn’t think of it like that, and I’m glad you’ve got such good friends to help you.”

“I- uh, I had bought you a present at the three broomsticks,” She said. “Madam Rosmerta put it aside to send to you, but I took it; I was angry and didn’t think you deserved it in the moment.” She brought out the half-empty bottle of Fire-Whiskey and put it on the table. “I didn’t drink it, it tasted really bad and I don’t know how you can, but I thought something’s better than nothing.”

“Hera, come here.” He held open his arms and she allowed her to be enveloped in a big bear hug. It was perhaps not forgotten, but they had chosen to move past it.

They chose not to tell Flitwick and McGonagall, Hera wasn’t exactly close to them, especially after how the transfiguration teacher had toed the line that Dumbledore was giving her about Nora, and she hoped Hagrid, or their next ‘target’ would inform them.

 

The next ‘target’ was Lupin, while he hadn’t been in the Three Broomsticks; he had still been with them every full moon the previous term, and the two anti-dementor lessons Hera had with him and not told her that the ‘friends’ he was talking about were James, Sirius, Peter, and Himself. It was perhaps lucky, perhaps not, that the nights leading up to Christmas eve were the full moon.

They met in the entrance hall after dinner on the twenty first, and Hera decided to just get to the point.

“I heard about Sirius Black.” She said as the three of them set off towards the standing stones. “Some of the professors were discussing it in the Three Broomsticks last Hogsmeade visit and I overheard.”

“I don’t know what exactly you heard but I must implore you, Hera, to-“ He said, Hera cut him off.

“Not do anything reckless? No, I’m not going to. I know he was my parent’s ‘Secret Keeper, and that he was the one that betrayed them to Voldemort.”

“That’s good.” Lupin said.

“I’m not angry with you, just disappointed.” She echoed the muggle phrase, hoping Lupin hadn’t heard it before. “I’ve already talked to Hagrid about it; but before he brought me to Hogwarts, my aunt and uncle didn’t tell me about any of this. I’ve just got a bit of a sore spot when it comes to lying.”

“You have to understand, I didn’t want to burden you with the information.” Lupin said.

“Sirius Black wants me dead, Voldemort wants me dead, I’m could have handled it.” Hera said. “And I would have hoped you would have told me, at the very least, because of how we’ve helped you these past few months.”

“Perhaps you could have handled it…” He solemnly admitted. “Part of me was ashamed that I had been… friends with him.”

“That’s understandable, I was friends with Ginny’s brother before he kidnapped her.” Hera said.

“It’s true,” Ginny said ruefully.

“But I’ve been kind of thinking, with how much your wolf form has changed over the past few months.” Hera said, knowing this might be a sensitive subject. “it’s been becoming more and more like us, maybe being with us has changed you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Perhaps,” Hera paused before suggesting it. “You could also control yourself without the Wolfsbane Potion now.”

“No, I’ve been a werewolf long enough to know that’s impossible.” He said, a hint of sadness in his voice.

“But you’ve changed, you said that you had never seen werewolves like us before.” Ginny cut in. “But now you look like us, who’s to say you couldn’t.”

“Because that would require testing it, and I can’t take that chance.” He said with finality as they arrived at the stones.

 

On the night of the twenty third they entered into the forest. Ginny had caught the scent of a deer wandering close to the edge, close enough that they could catch it. Hera and Lupin were preparing to shepherd it towards a small gorge nearby, Ginny was crouched at the other end.

The two heard Ginny’s bark in the distance, she was ready. The deer looked up, checking its surroundings for any sign of the wolf. Hera leapt out on one side, Lupin on the other, both of them slightly further from the gorge than the deer. Its suspicions confirmed, the deer took off…

In the entirely wrong direction. Hera let out a short howl to let Ginny know the trap was off, then she ran after the deer and Lupin.

Only to find it had already been caught.

The deer was hanging by one of its legs from a length of rope looped around a high branch. Hera figured it must have been some sort of snare trap. Lupin growled up at it. Her suspicions were confirmed by the voice that emerged from the forest behind it.

“Fairest greetings, noble Wolves.” Said a centaur emerging from the trees. “Thank you for your unknowing assistance.”

Hera tilted her head questioningly. Lupin looked to her, and seeing she was not aggressive, backed down too.

“My name is Ronan.” The centaur said. He looked to where Ginny emerged from the forest behind them. “Firenze told me you were running by your lonesome, but I see your pack has grown.”

Hera barked. He moved over to the base of the tree that the snare trap was looped around, untied the rope, and began lowering it to the ground.

“Please,” Ronan said. “might you allow me to take some of our catch back to my people?”

She barked in affirmation.

“Thank you, and stay safe during these days taken from us.” He said, swiftly executing the deer and working to hack through its neck.

 Hera may have enthusiastically devoured the deer that night, but the next morning she couldn’t help but wonder what Ronan had meant by ‘the days taken from us’.

 

Christmas dawned bright and early for the four girls. Hera was pleasantly surprised to discover that Mrs Weasley had made her a customary jumper this year; she had been worried she was off that list after how strained their relationship had been since she bit Ginny. Ginny, Hermione, and Nora had received one too. She didn’t know Nora knew Mrs Weasley, but she had said that her mother Alice had been a Prewett, like Molly.

It turned out Ginny had given her the exact same book of spells Hera had bought her, and they laughed about it a little before returning to their presents. Hermione had gotten her a calendar for next year that subtly showed the phases of the moon, and Nora had gotten her some dried jerky, which she tried and found very satisfying.

They headed down to Christmas lunch, but instead of the standard four tables that were there for feasts or regular meals, they found just the one.

“There’s not many of us here today, so it thought we’d dispense with the standard tables.” Dumbledore said from the head as they took some seats. Apart from them and Dumbledore, also seated at the table were McGonagall, Snape, Sprout, Flitwick, Filch, Lupin, a nervous first year Hufflepuff, and a bored fifth year Slytherin.

Hera had just begun on her second helping of Christmas ham when the doors to the great hall opened; revealing a woman wearing a multitude of shawls and beads, with rather large round glasses.

“Sybil!” Dumbledore said joyously. “How pleased I am that you have come to join in the festivities this year.”

“She’s the divination professor.” Nora whispered to the other three. “Professor Trelawney.”

“I have been crystal gazing, headmaster.” She said in a faraway voice.

“She’s like this a lot.” Nora whispered.

“And I saw myself coming down to eat with you for this luncheon.” She continued, scanning the table. She made a small jump. “It’s a good thing I have, for prior to my arrival there were thirteen. When thirteen dine together, the first to rise is the first to die.”

“Thank goodness you’re here, Sybil.” Professor McGonagall said in a voice that was not entirely free from sarcasm. She waved her wand and another chair appeared at the far end of the table.

“I am surprised to see you here professor Lupin.” Trelawney said. “What with your condition I predicted you would be enjoying some bedrest today.”

“Under the care of professor Snape,” He said, eyes also darting to Hera and Ginny. “I have noticed a decrease in fatigue after my… ah, episodes.”

“That’s quite alright, Lupin.” Snape said.

“Excellent news!” Said Dumbledore, then he turned to the solitary first year and offered him some chipolatas.

 

These were perhaps the best winter holidays Hera had ever had. As such, they were over far too quickly, and before they knew it Nora and Ginny were moving their mattresses back into the dormitories which the school mandated they sleep in.

Ginny heard via Percy that Scabbers was looking worse than ever. Although she wouldn’t say it to anyone else, she admitted to Hera it would probably be kinder if Ron were to let Hermione’s cat eat him.

Hera had another lesson on the Patronus charm just after classes started up again, and she felt like she had made real progress. After accidently changing the first time, she tried the memory of Her and Nora trying on clothes in Gladrags, just having a nice time with her friends.

By her third lesson she was able to conjure a small shield of white mist. Lupin congratulated her with a bottle of butterbeer.

“You’ve made great progress, Hera.” He said.

“Hey, so have you.” She said, referring to their monthly hunts. “I’ve been wondering, well, me and Hermione have been. I was around that dementor on the train for thirty seconds?”

“About that long.”

“And Sirius Black was in Azkaban for twelve year?” She said, he nodded. “Maybe he deserves that, but he’s got to be one of the worst cases, right?”

“He was in their top security wing, yes.”

“But what about people like… maybe not the lightest crime, but last year the minister accused Hagrid of petrifying students, and he was only released once I proved someone else did it.”

“I think I understand what you’re talking about, Hera.” Lupin said, and put a hand on her shoulder. “The dementors are horrifying, and we shouldn’t use them to guard prisoners. I agree, not least of which the incidents of rogue kissing.”

“I- I’m sorry?” She balked at the word ‘kissing’ being used in the same sentence as ‘dementors’.

“It is a dementor’s greatest weapon, when they lower their hoods it is predicted that there is some sort of mouth under there.” He shivered. “Using which they can suck out someone’s soul through their mouth. It is similar to a long-discarded muggle procedure called a ‘lobotomy’, I believe.”

“And they just let them go around doing that to any prisoners they like?”

“Of course, they do, they’re prisoners,” he said rather bitterly. “and thus, less human than their guards. The ministry has given the dementors permission to use it if they find Sirius Black.”

“But surely someone must have done something?” She said, aghast that the wizarding world could use such things as these.

“Dumbledore has spoken many times about it to the Wizengamut.” He said.

“And they still voted against it?”

“Voted? No, there was no vote.” He said. “Perhaps I should rephrase that, on some occasions Dumbledore has suggested that the dementors are less than ideal for doling out justice.”

They decided to leave the lesson there, as Hera was a little worked up by this talk of dementors.

She met Nora outside the Gryffindor common room.

“I can’t remember the password.” She said. “And no one’s letting me in.”

“No entry without the password, you scurvy wench!” The knight yelled at her.

“Well at least he knows I’m a girl.” She said, the turned back to Hera. “I was going to make a list, but I haven’t been forgetting things as badly this year and I wanted to try and remember.”

“I think it…” Hera said, straining her memory for the latest password. “Pauldron?”

“Correct.” The knight swung forward and the two clambered in.

They went over to Hermione and Ginny, where the former was helping the later with a potions essay.

Ron Weasley came charging down the doors to the Gryffindor boys’ staircase, clutching a sheet.

“Look!” He yelled at Hermione, pushing the sheet into her face. “Look at this!”

“Get out.” Ginny barked at him, pushing him away from Hermione.

“It’s Scabbers!” He said, and Hera could see that there was a sizable amount of blood on the sheet. “He’s gone!”

“Ron, I-“ Hermione started to say, but Ron cut her off.

“Your cat’s been after him since Diagon Alley, and look what I found on the floor!” He yelled and held up some orange cat hairs. “This.”

Hera drew her wand.

“That could have been there since Christmas.” Hermione said. “And besides, I’ve had Crookshanks locked in our dormitory since this morning.”

“A likely story.” Ron yelled sarcastically. “You probably trained him to open the door or something.”

“Back off, Ronald.” She said firmly, levelling her wand with his eyes. “You’re being paranoid.”

“Oh, are you going to use your wand on me like a human this time?” He said, and she saw red. It was very lucky that Ginny was there this time. Hera almost noticed Ginny’s arms wrapping around her shoulders and holding her back from once again using Ron as a punching bag. Nora and Hermione drew their wands and pointed them threateningly at Ron, forcing him backwards. Ginny began to manoeuvre her over to the girl’s staircase.

“Let me go!” Hera yelled at Ginny, but she just clutched tighter. She managed to stop Ginny dragging her up the staircase, but still couldn’t get free. She saw Ron laugh and knew she could get rid of him, right here. She could almost feel the moonlight inside of her rising up on its own.

But then she felt Ginny’s arms, struggling to contain her. They pushed a soft, almost itchy material against her skin. She was wearing the jumper Mrs Weasley had made her for Christmas. Her ability to ‘forgive her’, as if that’s what she needed after Hera saved her daughter’s life, would only go so far.

Her flailing limbs slowed, and soon Ginny was able to pull her up to her dormitory. Hermione and Nora followed behind her.

 

## Year 3 Chapter 10

Ron was becoming near impossible to stand. It only got worse a few nights later, even if there was a silver lining.

At about three in the morning they were woken by a scream. Hera and Hermione ran down into the common room in their nightclothes, along with several others. Hera scowled when she saw the source of the disturbance was Ron.

Nora came over and started explaining.

“He woke up in the middle of the night and saw Sirius Black standing over him, holding a knife.” She said. “We’re just waiting on McGonagall to turn up to help sort this out.”

“How could he get into Gryffindor tower?” Hermione whispered.

“He’s after me, so why did he go to the boy’s dorm?” Hera wondered aloud. “Sorry Nora.”

“No, I’m wondering that too.” Nora said. “Maybe he heard something about me from the editorials and Azkaban made him think you were… we need to find out if there’s a word for it, but like opposite of me.”

“That’s a bit of a stretch.” Ginny said, emerging from the girl’s staircase, doing the action she described. “Maybe he was going to take a hostage?”

The portrait opened and McGonagall entered.

“What’s all this then? I thought I told you all to go to bed hours ago.” She said, referring to a post-Quidditch match celebration that had taken place earlier.

“It’s my brother, professor.” Percy Weasley said. “He’s had a nightmare.”

“It wasn’t a nightmare, I woke up and Sirius Black was over me, holding a knife.” Ron said through clenched teeth.

“Are you sure, Mr Weasley?” McGonagall asked.

“I wouldn’t be lying about this, professor.”

“Well, there’s a very easy way to verify that.” She said and exited the common room.

From outside in the corridor they could hear her conversation with Sir Cadogan.

“Did you let someone other than myself or students into the common room tonight, Sir Cadogan?” She asked.

“Certainly, my lady.”

“I- what? Why on earth would you do that?” She asked, like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“He had the passwords, all written down on a piece of parchment.”

She re-entered the common room, taking very deliberate steps as she moved.

“Which abysmally foolish person wrote down this week’s passwords,” she said, her voice simmering with anger. “And left them lying around?”

No one moved.

But then someone stepped forwards, it was Nora.

“Longbottom.” McGonagall said. “You did this?”

“No.” Nora’s voice shook with something Hera wasn’t sure she had ever heard in it before.

“No?”

“No, but I would have.” She said. “We came to you weeks ago about how Sir Cadogan was changing the password twenty times a week, but you did nothing.”

“Watch your tongue.” She said.

“Something like this was bound to happen eventually.” Nora continued. “I’m used to the password system, but not everyone is; so, if you think I’m going to let you punish some first or second year for this then you’re wrong.”

A flash of annoyed respect shot through McGonagall’s eyes, and she turned on her heel to walk back through the portrait of Sir Cadogan.

Hera, Hermione, and Ginny rushed over to Nora, congratulating her on standing up to McGonagall.

 

None of Gryffindor tower slept that night, the castle was being searched again. Security was increased everywhere. Flitwick had apparently taught the front doors to recognise a picture of Sirius Black. The Fat lady had been returned, albeit under twenty-four-hour guard by security trolls.

“Where were those things last year?” Hera asked one morning as they left for breakfast.

Ron was even worse than usual, although the story had started with him waking up to Sirius black with a knife; it eventually morphed to a wizard’s duel of epic scale. The story of Nora standing up to McGonagall, however, was a divided issue; while some thought she was just being rebellious, others (mostly older students, including Fred and George) congratulated her on how she had stood up to one of the most intimidating teachers in the school. She even received a letter from her grandmother, praising her for standing up for the younger students.

 

Months and moons pass, and another Hogsmeade visit comes and goes. But on the morning after the full moon in May, something happened that no one was expecting. Hera, Lupin, and Ginny were heading back up to the castle, and Ginny made to pick up her bag.

The Marauder’s Map fell out onto the grass.

“What is that?” Lupin said sharply.

“Just some spare parchment.” Said Ginny, trying to play it off casually. He walked over and picked it up.

“No, it isn’t.” He said. “And I am very disappointed that you haven’t turned it in.”

“It’s fine.” Hera said.

“No, it isn’t, Hera.” Lupin said. “I’m surprised at you Ginny, has it not occurred to you that this map, and I know it’s a map, could allow Sirius Black exact knowledge of your friend’s whereabouts?”

“No way.” Ginny said. “I’m not going to just leave it around.”

“What about at night?” he said. “The dark magic his master taught him could possibly allow him to bypass the staircase of the girl’s dormitory, and he’s already gotten into the common room once.”

“If he got that far why not just kill me then?” Hera said.

“Besides, it’s not working properly anyway.” Ginny added.

“Wha-what do you mean?”

“It’s been showing me that there’s a dead guy living in Gryffindor tower, and not Nearly Headless Nick,” She said. “It’s that guy Black killed, Pettigrew.”

“Pettigrew?” Lupin said, narrowing his eyes in suspicion, “You’re quite sure?”

“He’s not been there for a while, but I noticed him around Halloween.” She said.

“Hmm.” Lupin hummed in thought. “Well, either way, I will be confiscating this.” He said and tucked the parchment into his jacket.

 

They had their end of year exams in June. Hera was pretty confident with most of the practical magic sections, Charms and Transfiguration primary among them. She thoroughly enjoyed the Care of Magical Creatures exam that Hagrid had put together, he had set up separate stations with pictures or even live creatures at each, each station referring to a specific question that they were given five minutes to answer before they and every one else moved onto the next.

She also liked the Defence against the Dark Arts exam, Lupin had set up an obstacle course. Well, she enjoyed it for the most part, the final part was facing a boggart.

Hera exited the swamp that Lupin had made to see if they could ignore a hinkypunk and she moved in front of the boggart. In her previous Patronus lesson she had talked to Lupin about what she should do if she had to deal with a boggart during the exam, at some minor hinting from him. He told her that it was very similar to casting a Patronus charm, both boggarts and dementors brought negative emotions to the surface, so the way to deal with them was positive memories.

As the Shrieking Shack surrounded her, she closed her eyes, focussing on memories of her friends. It had taken her a while to come up with how she could make it amusing, but eventually she had come up with a solution. Even if the solution was rather childish.

“ _Riddikulus_!” she said and the house was suddenly a drawing on an easel. A fake Dumbledore pointed his wand at the Shack and spoke.

“And that is why, Board of Governors, we should tear down the Shrieking Shack,” he said, pulling something from behind his back. “And recycle it into these rolls of Hogwarts brand toilet tissue.”

 

Nora came down to lunch after her Divination exam looking thoroughly confused.

“What’s the matter, Nora?” Hermione asked.

“I’m honestly not sure, Trelawney did something weird after my exam.” She said.

“Hmp.” Hermione huffed. “Well, that’s divination for you, isn’t it?”

“No, like, really weird,” Nora said. “Like her voice went all hoarse and she was acting really different. I think she might have made some sort of prophecy.”

“Well, that’s…” Hermione said, her dislike for the subject waring with her curiosity.

“Do you remember all of it?” Hera asked, choosing to put Hermione out of her misery.

“Yeah, well, I might get some bits wrong, but it went something like:

_It will begin tonight._

_The three will become four._

_The accused shall give first words._

_The secrets will be revealed._

_The servant will ensure the master’s return.”_

Nora shrugged. “It sounded like the sort of thing you’d expect a prophecy to say.”

“Did you get all that, Hermione?” Ginny teased, Hermione’s hands a blur as she hastily retrieved some parchment from her bag.

“I can repeat it if you want.” Nora laughed, then repeated the prophecy. Just as she finished and owl landed in front of Ginny. She retrieved the letter tied to its leg and read it.

“Hagrid wants me to come visit.” She said, passing the letter to her, it didn’t seem to say why.

“Any idea what it’s about?” Hera asked.

“No idea.” She said. “I’ve got my last exam after this, but I can go down just before dinner.”

“You might want to run back up and pack a bag.” Hera said. Referring to the full moon that night. “Remember.”

“Yeah, I’ll do that now.” She said, clambering from her bench. “You three had better come with me though, I can’t refuse his rock cakes alone for so long.”

“I think we’re mostly finished our exams, so sure.” Hera said.

“I have Muggle studies after this, but I’ll be there.” Nora said. She turned back to Hermione, “So, how does the postal service operate again?”

 

True to their words, they met Ginny down in the entrance hall before dinner. They headed down to Hagrid’s hut.

Ginny knocked on the door and Hagrid opened the door.

“Oh, when Ginny knocks on the door, she doesn’t get a crossbow in her face,” Hera shouted teasingly. “But when it’s me I have to relive that time you shot me!”

“I said I was sorry.” Hagrid said, looking rather hurt.

“Oh, no, Hagrid; I was joking.” Hera said quickly, she hadn’t wanted to upset him.

“Oh, uh, right.” He said, then bustled around pouring tea.

“So why did you want to see me, Hagrid?” Ginny asked.

“Oh, that.” He stood up, went over to a cupboard, and took out a milk jug. He handed it to her and she looked in.

“Scabbers?” She said, slightly shocked. There, in the milk jug, was Ron’s rat.

“Yeah, I found ‘im in the cabbages.” Hagrid said.

“But why are you giving him to me?” Ginny asked. “He’s Ron’s rat.”

“I’m giving you him so that you can end this feud with Ron you’ve all got.” He said. “It’s not right, a brother and sister fighting.”

“You do know what he did? Right Hagrid?” Hera asked.

“I do know, professor Dumbledore told me on the way back from Azkaban last year.” Hagrid said. “And he told me that Ron was possessed, he wasn’t in control of his own actions.”

“Yeah, we heard that, but I’m not sure.” Ginny said. “He was jealous of me and Hermione all year because he and Hera drifted apart, and that first year was always annoying him.”

“And even if he wasn’t in control, he still hasn’t apologised.” Hermione said.

“Well, I can’t say anything about that, but you shouldn’t pretend you’ve not done anything to him.” Hagrid said. “Like punching him in class, and all that business with Crookshanks.”

“He called me a Bitch!” Hera said.

“He’s not bothered to keep Scabbers in his cage either.” Hermione said.

“And I’m not saying that isn’t bad, but it’s just gonna get worse unless one of you tries for a truce.” Hagrid said. “You don’t want that sort of rivalry hanging over your heads forever.”

“Ugh.” Hera said, she had to admit, he had a point.

“Maybe they can, Hagrid.” Nora said. “But the only way he’s going to stop saying stuff about me behind my back is if I somehow went back to how things were before, when I was miserable.”

“No, probably not, Nora.” He said. “But it’d probably be better if your friends weren’t antagonising him.”

“Yeah,” Nora sighed. “You’re probably right.”

“I guess I agree.” Ginny said. Hera rolled her eyes in exhaustion and nodded.

“Good.” Hagrid said. “Now you should all be getting back up to the castle.” He poured the milk jug out into Ginny’s hands and she caught Scabbers.

They said goodbye and began the walk back up to the school. The sun had just begun to brush the horizon.

“Keep still, you stupid rat.” Ginny said, struggling to keep him still. Scabbers was writhing in her hands, trying to escape. She held tight, though, and they managed to climb the hill up to the stone circle. However, just before they reached the stones themselves, Crookshanks slunk out between them.

“I’ll grab Crookshanks.” Hermione said, and split off from the group to grab her cat. She gave out a scream of surprise as she was bowled over by a large, shaggy, black dog that had also been among the stones. It was the dog Hera had seen a few months ago, on the October full moon; and now she was getting a look at it, it looked like the dog she had waved to that night she ran away from Diagon Alley.

Ginny finally managed to contain Scabbers by wrapping him in her bag. She looked up and saw the dog. The dog saw her, and charged. Too slow to react, Nora and Hera were knocked down as the dog ploughed into Ginny.

To Hera’s horror, the dog grabbed a hold of Ginny’s pant leg with its teeth and began to drag her along the ground. Hera looked up, the Dog was dragging her to the Whomping Willow. Ginny was fighting back fiercely, kicking the dog’s face when she could get a clear shot, but it held tight. The others stood, and with just a second of hesitation on Hera’s part they rand after her.

“Hermione, that knot on the tree.” Hera yelled. “Hit it with something.” She pointed to the sensitive spot on the trunk. The dog had already dragged Ginny to where Hera knew was the entrance to the secret passage lay.

“ _Flippendo_!” Hermione drew her wand and aimed at the knot. Ginny vanished into the passage with a shout. Hermione hit and the tree stiffened.

The three of them raced up to the passage entrance as quick as they could. Ginny’s shouts echoed back to them.

A flash of the inside of the Shrieking Shack came to her and she shivered. Hera purposefully moved her thoughts to Ginny, she was alone in there with that dog, she had to help. She made to enter the passage.

“Hera, are you sure?” Nora asked.

“No.” She admitted, and lowered herself into the passage. She forced thoughts of what had happened last time she was there down. Hermione and Nora followed her into the passage and they all ran along the passageway. Hera faintly registered Crookshanks following along behind them.

A few minutes of running later that left the other two winded, they arrived at the trap door into the Shack.

“Here goes nothing.” Hera said, and opened it.

She saw instantly that something was different, although much of the shack remained dusty, the floors were less so. The wrecked furniture was piled off to one side.

“Someone… has been… living here.” Said Nora as the other two pulled themselves up into the room.

“The boggart really doesn’t do this place justice, Hera,” Hermione said. “It’s horrible, even for me.”

“Ginny’s probably upstairs.” Hera said, and drew her wand. The other two followed as she walked slowly over to the stairs, then up to the second level.

“Ginny!” Hera whispered as she made her way upstairs. Ginny was lying on the bed, unconscious. She hurried over to her, Nora and Hermione following.

Hera shook Ginny, who awoke groggily.

“Hera!” she said, suddenly wide awake. “You shouldn’t have come, its not a dog, it’s Sirius Black, he’s an animagus!”

“Now I don’t know what they’re feeding you at that school.” A voice said from behind them. “But shrugging off several of my stunners takes some gusto.” The four of them turned to see Sirius Black standing on the far side of the room. He looked far worse than the pictures of him in the paper, his dark hair hung all the way to his elbows, the exact same colour as the dog.

“ _Expelliarmus_.” He said, raising Ginny’s wand. Hera’s, Nora’s and Hermione’s flew from their hands and he caught them. He fixed his eyes on Hera. “I thought you’d try come and help your friend. Your father would have done the same thing.”

“Don’t you talk about him.” Hera spat. Anger rose up within her. “But you’re mistaken about something.”

“What’s that?”

“I don’t need my wand to kill you.” She said, stepping forwards. She felt the moonlight within herself, and was just about to draw it up, to change right here, in the Shrieking Shack, when…

“Hera!” Ginny said, getting up from the bed and standing in front of her. “Don’t.” her eyes pleading. Nora and Hermione’s arms closed around her.

“You have to get out of here.” Hermione whispered to her.

“I can’t go without you.” Hera said.

“If you want to kill Hera, then you’ll have to kill us too!” Nora shouted.

“No.” Black said. “There will only be one murder here tonight, and it won’t be her.”

“What?” Hera said, taken aback.

“Peter Pettigrew is alive.” He said.

“What?” Hera asked again. No, that couldn’t be true, he was just trying to distract her.

“He is, and I can prove it.” What he did next shocked her more than his claim. He put her wand on the floor and backed away. Hera darted down and grabbed it, then resumed pointing it at him.

“How?” Hera asked.

“He’s in this room,” He said. Hera felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up, he was obviously not in his right mind; and while there might be four of them, he was a fully-grown wizard. “He’s the rat in your bag.” He pointed at Ginny.

“That’s ridiculous, you killed him.” Hera said.

“No, he didn’t.” A voice came from downstairs.

“Professor Lupin!” Hermione called out, “We’re up here. Sirius Black is here too!”

True to Hermione’s words, Lupin walked up the stairs.

“Remus?” Black said, his eyes widening.

“Sirius.” Lupin said, and he walked over and pulled the other man into a big hug.

“No!” Ginny shouted, “We trusted you!”

“How long have you been helping him get into the castle?” Hermione said.

“I haven’t.” Lupin said, turning back to them. “Sirius is innocent, but I didn’t know for sure until tonight.”

“What are you talking about?” Nora said. “He’s been talking about Pettigrew being a rat.”

“It was you who provided me the thing I used, Ginny.” Lupin said. “You’re exactly right, Nora, but I’ll get to it in a bit. It was the Marauder’s Map. I saw Sirius dragging you and Peter to the Willow”

“So, it’s broken, who cares?” Ginny said. “Or it was lying.”

“The map never lies.” Sirius said back.

“What would you know about it?” Ginny asked.

“I made it.” He said simply.

“What?” Ginny said.

“It was my fault, really.” Said Lupin. “Please, sit down; this is a lengthy tail and I want to do it justice.”

“Remus…” Sirius said.

“You can wait a few more minutes, he’s not going anywhere.”

Lupin began his tale, about how his friends at school were the marauders that the map was named after. About how they had figured out he was a werewolf, and why the Shack had been built. About the other three becoming Animagi. How they visited him in their animal forms, and how they helped him leave the shack.

“So, you could control yourself!” Hera said.

“Not exactly, when I was alone with my friends it was like my instincts to hurt people were dulled.” He said. “We had some very close calls.” His eyes flicked from Sirius to Hera, not wanting to say what he was thinking.

“He’s going to find out eventually.” She said.

“Find out what?” Sirius asked.

“That I’m a werewolf.”

“I- oh Merlin,” He said. “James’ daughter is-?” he rounded on Lupin. “Did you do this to her?”

“Of course, he didn’t!” Hera shouted. Slightly annoyed. “I was one from my first year, and maybe even before that.”

“Wait, how-?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know, I wasn’t bitten or anything, just was in detention in the forest one day and I changed. I can control myself when transformed, too.”

“Oh, well, that’s weird.” He said, Hera could see the gears turning over in his brain. He pointed at Ginny. “Those stunners you shrugged off, then you’re also…!”

“Yep.” Ginny said. “Hera saved by life by biting me.”

“And you two as well?” he pointed to Nora and Hermione.

“Nope.”

“I’ve been with them every full moon this year.” Lupin said. “It’s actually been bearable with people I know, again. But we’re getting off topic.”

Lupin continued the story, how in seventh year James had calmed down a bit and started dating Hera’s mother. But then Voldemort had begun targeting them, and Dumbledore convinced them to go into hiding using the Fidelius charm.

“They were going to choose Sirius.” Lupin said. “but I’m assuming that isn’t what happened.”

“We switched to Peter at the last second.” Sirius said. “I was the obvious choice, so I thought they’d be safer if Pettigrew was the keeper.”

“And you thought I was the spy?”

“Yes.” Sirius admitted ruefully.

Sirius took over the retelling, how he heard the Potters were attacked and hurried over. Then hunted down Pettigrew, who then blew up the street behind him when he was caught, yelling about how Sirius was the guilty one before he cut off his finger and transformed.

“And you think Scabbers is Pettigrew?” Nora asked. “How?”

“You know, I’ve been wondering that too, Sirius.” Lupin said, and Sirius drew from inside his prison garb a squashed piece of parchment. It was the daily prophet article about the Weasley’s vacation to Egypt, and in the picture was Scabbers, clearly missing a toe.

“I’ve seen him transform enough to know that was him.” he said. “The minister visited the prison a week before I broke out, and he gave me a paper.”

He then described how he escaped and swam across to the mainland, and journeyed down to Surrey.

“Before I caught Pettigrew, I needed to see you, Hera.”

“So, you were that dog the night I ran away.” She said, and she found herself believing his story. If he really wanted her dead, he could have tried to maul her then, there was no one around.

“Of course!” Nora said. “That’s why he was trying to break into Gryffindor tower, and why he was over Ron’s bed.”

“This remarkable cat has been helping me quite a bit.” He said, referring to Crookshanks, who had curled up on the bed. “Very intelligent.” Hermione beamed.

“Quite unlike you, Black.” A cold voice said from the stairwell, Hera turned to see Snape emerging from it, aiming his wand at Sirius.

“Snivellus?” Sirius said. “Why on earth are you here?”

“I’ve just apprehended a dangerous criminal.” He said. “And you, Lupin, I might have known.”

“Professor, you’re making a mistake.” Said Hermione. “Sirius isn’t to blame.”

“A powerful confundus charm he’s put you all under.” Snape said. “ _Incarcerous_.” He flicked his wand and robes wrapped around Lupin. Hera’s eyes flicked to Nora, then Hermione, then Ginny. They met her gaze and nodded.

“ _Incarcerous_.” They cast at Snape. Four sets of rope wrapped around him, knocking the wand from his hand.

“How dare you!” He spat. “I am trying to save your ungrateful hides.”

“No, you’re going to listen.” Ginny said, and took the squirming rat from her bag. “Can you prove its him?” Hera moved over to Lupin and untied him.

“We can.” Lupin said.

“Long story short, Pettigrew was the secret keeper for my mum and dad,” Hera said as Ginny was positioning the rat in the middle of the floor. “he faked his own death and has been hiding with the Weasleys for the past twelve years.”

“How delusional can you get, Potter?” Snape sneered. Lupin pointed his wand at the rat “There’s no way that Pettigrew is… Alive?” The rat formerly known as Scabbers grew under Lupin’s spell, twisting around until there stood a man. Snape’s eyes bulged. “No!”

“I don’t know how much you’ve heard Peter, but it’s over.” Sirius said.

Peter Pettigrew scampered around pleading, only to be met with revulsion at every turn.

“You should have known, Peter,” Sirius said. “If Voldemort didn’t kill you, we would.”

“No.” Said Snape. They all turned to him. “We are taking him up to the castle so that he can be sent to Azkaban.” Sirius scowled at Snape.

“Severus, are you sure?” Lupin said. “He’s the reason Lily is dead.”

“That is exactly why I am sure.” Snape’s eyes flashed maliciously. “Death is far too quick for him.” Sirius’ scowl turned into a grin. Lupin released the ropes binding him and he picked up his wand.

“You know, Severus,” He said. “I think that’s the first time I’ve ever agreed with you.”

“ _Stupefy_.” Snape said. Pettigrew dropped to the floor, unconscious. “Now, let’s get back up to the castle. I’m sure the headmaster would want to hear this story too, Black.”

 

## Year 3 Chapter 11

Relieved at how well this whole situation had ended up, everyone descended the stairs. Snape kept Pettigrew’s body suspended floating in mid-air in front of him. They climbed back into the tunnel to the Whomping Willow.

Hera sidled up to Sirius in the tunnel.

“I was wondering, you said you all made the Marauder’s map,” Hera said. “Those names on the cover… what were they about.”

“Nicknames.” He said simply. “Named for our animagus forms. Except for Remus, of course, he was Moony, Wormtail was Pettigrew, I was Padfoot, and your father was Prongs.”

“Prongs?” she asked.

“He turned into a stag.” Sirius said.

“huh.” She said.

“Like, antlers.”

“Oh, gotcha.”

“You know,” Sirius said. “Your parents named me your Godfather.”

“Yeah, I heard about that.” Hera said tentatively.

“Well, I was thinking, if you wanted, when I clear my name after this, you could come live with me.” He said. “You can stay with your aunt and –“

“No, you heard what I said about the night we saw each other, right?” Hera said. “I was running away. They’re terrible, made me sleep in a cupboard under the stairs until I got my Hogwarts letter addressed to me there.”

“Oof, and I thought my family was bad.” He said, as ahead of them Nora and Hermione climbed up through the passage to the Whomping Willow. “I should also probably apologise for not getting you a Christmas present.”

“No, it’s fine.” She waved it off.

“No, I really wanted to, but I had no idea what to get you.”

“Seriously, it probably would have caused trouble,” She said, about to climb through the passage entrance. “Think about it, a mystery gift appears out of nowhere, anyone would be suspicious.”

She walked a couple of paces out from the entrance to the passage. Hermione, Nora, Snape and the unconscious Pettigrew were already up here. Sirius climbed out, then it was Ginny and Lupin.

“Ahh.” Screamed Pettigrew as he awoke from unconsciousness above them. “What is?” he looked over behind the group, his eyes filling with something. That scared Hera, she turned to see what he was looking at.

It was the full moon.

She began to change.

“Run!” Sirius shouted. “Run!”

“Do as he says.” Snape yelled, shepherding Nora and Hermione over towards the bridge back into Hogwarts. A look of horror passed over his face. “Lupin hasn’t taken his potion tonight!”

Hera felt her knees shift.

“Lupin!” She yelled over to her father’s friend. “You have changed! You can control it n-“ her words were cut off as her vocal chords changed.

She was dimly aware that the big black dog had appeared next to her. It let out a bark of confusion as it saw the three wolves change past the form that he had seen Lupin take during their school days.

Hera felt the change passing, she was a wolf again. Her eyes flicked up to professor Lupin’s grey form.

He was whimpering.

Then he stood up. She felt Ginny beside her, ready to keep Lupin away from their friends.

Lupin barked.

Hera stiffened, waiting to pounce as soon as the werewolf tried to get past her to get to the four humans fleeing across the bridge.

Sirius slowly padded up to Lupin, sniffing him.

Lupin lowered his head to the same level as the dog’s.

He opened his mouth.

Lupin licked Sirius right on the muzzle, Sirius licked back.

He could control himself without the potion.

She and Ginny trotted up. Hera puffed with relief.

Lupin wagged his tail.

Then they heard a yell. Hera twisted around to see the four humans partway across the covered bridge. Pettigrew had somehow gotten down from the ceiling and crashed into Snape.

Hera ran as fast as she could. She had to get there before Pettigrew hurt her friends.

A red flash indicated Pettigrew had taken Snape’s wand and stunned him.

Hera could hear the other two wolves behind her, Sirius was probably too small to keep up. She entered the stone circle and saw a flash of purple light. She entered the bridge and a yellow flash lit up the area.

She ran up to the party on the bridge.

Pettigrew was already gone. she scratched the bridge in frustration. She looked down at her friends. Her empty stomach rumbled.

No. They aren’t food. The thought vanished from her mind.

But they were dying.

A diseased looking pustule was attached to Hermione’s arm, slowly inflating with blood, and Nora was coughing up a lung.

She could help them. She needed to help them.

She whined at them. Hermione looked up, fear in her eyes.

“Hera?” She asked. Hera nodded. She sensed Ginny and a docile Lupin behind her, watching her. Hermione grunted with pain. She looked up again. “It’s the only way, isn’t it?”

Hera looked at Snape, there had to be another way, she didn’t want to be responsible for two more of her friends becoming…

 “Hera.” Hermione said, “Please.” and held out her uncursed brown forearm. Hera lunged forward, sinking her teeth into Hermione. She yelled in pain.

Nora rolled over, blood dribbling down her cheeks. She coughed, blood splattered up into the air. She caught Hera’s eye and made a single, deliberate, nod. She turned over and spat out a mouthful of blood, still coughing. She raised one of her legs towards Hera.

She bit her, too.

Hera released Nora and looked over to Hermione, desperate to see if she was getting better. Her bite wound had healed over, and the pustule had stopped expanding, it just stayed there, semi-inflated with her blood.

She checked back with Nora, who was coughing worse than ever. She gave one racking cough and a large purple ball of magic exited her mouth, splattering on the bridge floor.

“Ahh.” Nora groaned, she had stopped coughing. “Hurts… Breathe… Her… mi… ne…” Hera looked over, Hermione’s pustule had shrunk slightly. Nora shook her robes to cover her bite.

“I’m fine.” Hermione said. “You stay calm, Nora.” She covered her bite with her sleeve, shuffled herself over a little and kicked Professor Snape. He didn’t move, so she did it again. This time he did respond.

“Stop that.” He groaned and pushed himself up. “Miss Granger, what are you-?” then he caught sight of the pustule on her arm.

“Pettigrew escaped, professor.”

Sirius wound his way up behind Hera.

“Oh, you’re still here, are you?” Snape said. He turned to the three werewolves standing on the bridge. “Well, go on.”

“Come on, Black, we need to get these two up to the castle.” Snape said. Hera turned and ran to the end of the bridge, turning back to see the two black haired men supporting the two girls on their way to the castle, and thus, the hospital wing.

They were going to be alright.

Hera turned and put the four from her mind. Pettigrew or no, the moon’s light was inside her, urging her to hunt.

 

## Year 3 Chapter 12

Hera awoke the next morning in the shadow of the Whomping Willow, she quickly grabbed her clothes and put them on.

She remembered that they had caught a boar? Possibly, but there was no sign of Pettigrew.

“He must have crawled away on the bridge supports.” She growled to herself.

She looked around, Lupin was on the far side of the Willow, thank goodness.

Pettigrew… Sirius!

She had to get back up to the castle right now. Would Dumbledore still believe him without Pettigrew? Would the ministry?

“Hera?!” Ginny’s voice yelled from a little way down the hill. “Are you there?”

“Ginny!” She called back, and started gathering up the small pile of Ginny’s clothes.

“There you are!” Ginny crossed the horizon and grabbed her clothes, quickly putting them on while Hera turned her back.

Soon they had woken Lupin and were all on their way to the Hospital wing.

As they walked, they talked.

“So, you don’t need the potion after all.” Hera smirked at Lupin.

“It appears not.” Lupin smiled. He sighed, “Thank you for believing in me.”

“Wait a second…” Ginny said. Hera turned to look at her, she appeared deep in thought. “Oh. Oh!”

“What?” Hera asked. Ginny looked up at her, eyes wide.

“Professor, you’re just a regular werewolf, right?” Ginny asked. “And before now you’ve looked the same as other werewolves, right?”

“Yes, what are you thinking?” Lupin asked.

“What I’m thinking,” Ginny said. “Is that we’re ordinary werewolves too.”

“That makes no sense, you can control yourselves.”

“But so can you.” Ginny said.

“So, what you’re thinking is there’s a difference between us and other werewolves but it’s like, not us?” Hera said

“Exactly!” Ginny said. “And it’s not Hogwarts, because it didn’t affect You when you were at school, Professor.”

“That makes sense.” Lupin said. “Hera, Ginny, what were the specifics of your first changes? Mine was in my parent’s basement.”

“It was in the forest.”

“At the stone circle.”

“Was anyone with you?” He asked.

“A professor possessed by the soul of Lord Voldemort.”

“Just Her- what?”

“It’s a long story,” Hera said.

“Was there anything you did just before or after?” Lupin asked, chosing to ignore Hera’s surprising answer. “From what I can remember I mostly just slept.”

“I chased the figure off and ate the meat I brought with me.”

“We… also ate meat you had brought with you.”

“That’s it,” Lupin said. “Something about that meat.”

“And you’ve been eating it too!” Hera added.

“Yes! That may be why I’ve changed.”

“Oh, I just remembered something!” Hera said, she almost smacked her head for forgetting it. “One of the portraits on the wall of Dumbledore’s office was in love with a werewolf, and she said that the change takes a lot of energy!”

“So, you can control yourself as long as you eat…” Lupin trailed off. Then he really did smack his head. “Come in here.” He gestured towards an empty classroom.

“All werewolves in the wizarding world, apart from us three look like I did on our first moon here.” He said, very slowly and deliberately. “They are completely out of control.”

“I guess, yeah.” Said Ginny.

“But that all changed for me when started eating so much just after I changed.” He said. “And then the form that I take changed.”

“Oh!” Ginny said, gasping.

“The reason werewolves are uncontrollable is that they’re hungry!” He said. “I even noticed less tiredness post full moon since I’ve been eating after the change.”

“They’re so hungry that they need food to survive!” Hera said. “And that might be why they don’t change like us, they don’t have the energy left to!”

“We are ordinary werewolves.” Ginny said, “The others are just starved, from moon after moon of not hunting or eating.”

“And the biting!” Lupin said. “The reason these starved werewolves instinctually bite people to make them werewolves as well is to have someone to hunt with!”

They sat there for a few seconds, having blown the world of werewolves wide open.

“Whoa.” Hera said. Then she thought of something. “We need to tell people. Set up food drops near where werewolves live. Let people know they don’t need to be dangerous at the full moon.”

“I-“ Lupin seemed like he was going to say something, but switched before it left his mouth. “That’s a fantastic idea.”

“We need to tell Dumbledore,” Ginny said, “Do you think he’d still be in the hospital wing?”

“Let’s go find out.” Hera said, opening the door to the classroom.

 

It turned out Nora and Hermione had made a complete recovery. They and Madam Pomfrey were alone in the Hospital Wing. The curses Pettigrew had used upon them were fully cured.

“So, all those werewolves out there are just hungry?” Hermione said, her expression appeared as though a professor was explaining a difficult question on the board.

“And as long as we stay fed, we’ll be fine?” Nora asked.

“It appears so.” Lupin said.

“We’ve gotta find Sirius.” Hera said, waving a temporary goodbye to her bed bound friends by rule of Pomfrey.

“Dumbledore’s office then,” Lupin said.

“Hera!” Nora called after her. She turned around. “Thanks!”

 

They arrived at Dumbledore’s office.

“Golden Gaytime.” Lupin said, and the gargoyle jumped aside. The three of them strode up the steps and emerged into Dumbledore’s office. Sirius and Snape sat in two chairs before the headmaster’s desk, and the minister for magic, Cornelius Fudge, sat in another fidgeting with his bowler hat.

“Remus!” Sirius said as the three of them entered.

“Professor Lupin.” Dumbledore said, “We were just explaining to the minister about what was revealed in the shrieking shack overnight.”

“It is almost unbelievable.” Fudge said nervously. “I shall be taking Memories of the event to verify if they are genuine and unaltered, but if they are, Mr Black here should have a full pardon.”

“Fantastic.” Lupin said, and hugged Sirius. He turned to Snape. “And Severus, thank you.”

Snape took a deep breath and let it out rather quickly. “I guess I’ll have to savour it, you probably won’t require the wolfsbane potion from me anymore.”

“Which brings us to the less than good news.” Fudge said. “In order for these memories to be admissible as evidence, you three.” He pointed to Hera, Lupin, and Ginny. “Will have to be legally registered; meaning Professor Lupin will have to resign.”

“Resign?” Hera asked in shock. “No way! He’s the best Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher we’ve ever had.”

“I’m afraid my hands are tied in that matter, Miss Potter.” Fudge said. “The bill passed early last year specifically forbids werewolves from holding a position at a school.”

“But Lupin can control himself.” Ginny said.

“And there’s another thing we figured out!” Hera said, and they explained their werewolf hunger instinct hypothesis to the others in the office.

“Well, that is fascinating.” Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled. “I had hoped that putting you two in proximity would curb miss Potter’s temper, although this is a very welcomed outcome.”

“And unfortunately, it is rather far-fetched.” Fudge said. “I’m not saying I don’t believe you, but the Wizengamut will need more evidence. I can refer you to some noted werewolf researchers over the holidays, although I dare say Albus will know more of them than me.”

Fudge’s mind could not be changed, although he kept insisting it wasn’t his mind that needed changing, but he eventually stepped over to Dumbledore’s fireplace.

“I will be delivering these to Amelia Bones of the Department of Magical Law enforcement immediately for her to look them over. Hopefully by dinner you won’t be being hunted anymore, Mr Black.” He tossed a pinch of powder into the flames and they turned green. “The dementors will be recalled, of course, regardless of what the trial finds; I daresay they did more harm than good.” He stepped into the floo and disappeared.

 

The evening edition of the Daily Prophet showed that the call for Sirius’ arrest had been put on hold pending further trial. He checked himself into St Mungo’s hospital that very night, carrying a copy just in case. He told Hera that he’d be up and about as soon as he could, choosing out one of the many Black family Manors for them to stay in, or somewhere else entirely.

Lupin had to resign after all, but he got in touch with some small werewolf communities that he had frequented over the years, and vowed to drop by to tell them something big. When he announced his resignation at dinner that night most if not all the students groaned with disappointment. When they met in the entrance hall, Lupin returned the Marauder’s Map to Ginny.

They took extra meat out with them that night. Not only because they were celebrating, but also because they were still hungry from mostly going without the previous night.

There was also that little fact of two extra wolves along with the that night.

“Whoa.” Nora said as they all stepped out into the moonlight. “This feels weird, but like, a good weird.”

“I know!” Hermione said, “I was shocked when you said you used to come out here before the forest, but whoa.”

“Just wait till we change, it’s really good.” Ginny said.

They passed the spot where the two new werewolves had nearly died the previous night and reached the stone circle.

“Toss out your meat, then chose a rock to put your things behind when you change.” Hera said. They did so, then lay down in the centre of the circle, waiting to feel the pull of the moon.

“I never realised just how bright the moon is.” Nora said.

“Its beautiful, isn’t it?” Hera said.

“Yeah.”

Hermione tugged on Hera’s shirt. She turned, questioningly.

“I know why you hesitated, back on the bridge,” Hermione whispered. “And it’s ok, I wouldn’t have asked you to if I wasn’t prepared for the consequences.”

“You’re like the smartest person I know, ‘Mione.” Hera said. “You’d probably thought it through a while ago.

“Possibly…” Hermione said cheekily, but then they all began to change. The lunar fire blazed within them as they moved behind their chosen rocks. Their bones reconfigured, skin sprouted fur, and muscles grew.

Hera stepped into the stone circle. Her fur was a rusty brown. Ginny’s, she recognised as that blazing orange-red. Lupin shook his coat of brown and grey. Nora was dark brown, same as her hair. Hermione was a slightly lighter brown than Nora, almost the same colour as her human skin.

They leapt upon the nearby meat, not starving, but still quite hungry. Even if they didn’t have enough, Hera could already tell Ginny had smelt something worth hunting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Told you it was a long one.


	5. Year 4 Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 1 of 3 of Year 4.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fleur: ‘Ave you finished wis ze bouillabaisse?  
> The Huntresses: :O :O :O :O
> 
> The image I have in my head for Hera (or a grown-up version of her) is basically Mary-Jane Watson from the alternate Marvel universe designation 8545. In that continuity she’s Spiderwoman and a lesbian.
> 
> Warning: Recreational drug use, period-appropriate homophobia and transphobia.

## Year 4 Chapter 1

Hera’s Godfather, Sirius Black: former convicted mass murderer, was still in Hospital. She couldn’t blame him, of course, twelve years surrounded by creatures that quite literally drained the happiness out of you would do that. But it also meant he was in no way to take care of her at the moment. As such, she had been required by Dumbledore to spend at least part of the holidays with her aunt and uncle.

Unfortunately, that was a month ago. Her birthday was in a few weeks and she had hoped she wouldn’t have to spend this year’s birthday at the Dursleys.

Luckily, her friends had kept in correspondence.

Nora was keeping her up to date with the details of her greenhouses. Although how she could stand all the different plant scents now that she was a werewolf Hera had no idea. Hermione was feverishly searching through all her books for any reference to the ‘Werewolf Hunger Hypothesis’ as she called it, or anything like it. She had not been successful. Lupin had made contact with a small werewolf pack that he had run with for a few years, and was trying his best to convince them of their discovery. It wasn’t as if they didn’t believe him, especially after he became a completely different form of werewolf the previous full moon, but they were light on funds for the required food. Hera would have sent some, but she had no way to get to her vault in Gringotts.

Ginny had other news, her dad had managed to score a bunch of tickets for the Quidditch World Cup for pennies. Metaphorical pennies at least. Ginny would usually be enthused about going to see such a big event, but as the beginning of the match fell on the full moon, she had proposed that they take over her house while all the boys were away. Nora and Hermione had agreed already, and Hera confirmed her enthusiasm for the idea in her reply.

The specifics of how she would be getting to Ginny’s house depended on if Sirius was cleared to leave the Hospital by the day before the Quidditch World Cup.

The days passed slowly in the leadup to the international sporting event. Until finally, on the day they had arranged for Hera to leave for the Burrow, Mr Weasley walked up to number four Privett Drive and knocked on the door at eleven in the morning.

“Who the devil is that?” Asked Vernon.

“My way outta here,” Hera said, carrying her trunk filled with belongings down the stairs, having sent Hedwig along earlier with her cage. She opened the door.

“Hello, Hera, ready to go?” Mr Weasley said. She nodded and attempted to leave. He blocked her way. “Aren’t you going to say goodbye?”

“No, let’s go.” She said curtly.

“Very well then.” He said looking puzzled, then led her down the driveway and down the street. “I’ll be taking you via side-along apparition.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“It’s a type of… how would a muggle describe it?” He asked nobody in particular. “You disappear in one place and appear in another.”

“Teleportation.”

“Teleportation, that’s it.” He said. “Only adult wizards can do it, but I can take you along; Dumbledore’s set up a secure location for us up ahead.”

He led her over to the park on Magnolia Crescent.

“Here we are.” Mr Weasley said, a grin on his face. He subtly whipped out his wand and pointed it at her trunk. It vanished. “Just sent them on ahead.”

“Okay,” then, feeling like she needed to say more, she added. “That’s convenient.”

“That it is. Now, take my hand.” He extended it. Hera did so and, after a few seconds of feeling like she was being forced through a tight rubber tube, she was at the Burrow. She giggled, it had felt strangely nice to apparate.

“Thanks Mr Weasley.” She said, and picked up her trunk from next to where she had appeared. Hera walked through the door and was immediately enveloped in a hug.

“Hi Ginny.” She said, judging from the flash of red hair. She returned the hug with one hand, so as to not drop her trunk.

“Hi Hera.”

“Hello, Hera.” Said Mrs Weasley from behind the kitchen counter, she was rolling out a dough of some sort.

“Come on up to my room.” Ginny said as she pulled away from her. “We’ll all be rooming there after the full moon, just like at Christmas.” Hera couldn’t help but see Mrs Weasley’s normally friendly smile twitch slightly.

She made her way upstairs, guided by Ginny, and entered her room.

“Hera! Hi.” Hermione said, Her bushy hair was tied back in a bun She clambered off the bed.

“Hi.” Nora said from beside Hermione as she clambered off the bed too, where they seemed to have been reading a Herbology magazine together. Hera pulled them both into a hug after putting her trunk down. They pulled apart after a few seconds.

“There’s not much to do until tonight, I’m afraid.” Ginny said, as Hera moved her trunk to the foot of her already laid out camp bed. “Mum’s working overtime to cook for the boys going to the match.”

“Is she going too?” Hera asked as she sat down cross-legged on her camp bed. Ginny flopped onto hers. Nora and Hermione were back reading their Herbology magazine. She could have sworn the room was smaller when she’d roomed with Ginny two years ago.

“No, but she’s not letting them spend all our money on the food there.” Ginny said. “She says the stalls there will be really expensive, and if the match goes multiple days… well.”

“So, who’s going to see it?” Hera asked. She’d never really been interested in Quidditch, but the rest of the wizarding world seemed obsessed.

“Dad, Charlie, Bill, Percy, the twins, and he-who-must-not-be-named.” She listed off.

“Voldemort’s going to be there?” Nora asked.

“You said the name, well done, Nora.” Hermione said and patted her on the head, and Nora blushed.

“Not that one, the other one.” Ginny clarified. Hera understood. Ron. Apparently since Scabbers had turned out to be a human named Peter Pettigrew, and run off for good, the air between Ginny and her brother had been icy at best. No matter what she said about Scabbers being one of Voldemort’s supporters, and that she had been going to return the rat to him, made absolutely no difference.

“How’s Sirius going?” Hermione asked, changing the subject.

 

Over that afternoon Hera bumped into several of the other Weasley family members, including some she had never met before.

Charlie, who she had previously corresponded with during her first year, worked with Dragons in Romania.

“Thanks for the Ridgeback.” He said.

“How is Norbert?” Hera asked.

“We call her Norberta now.” He replied.

Nora caught her eye from behind him and shot her a look that said “Couldn’t he think up a better name then that?” They both chuckled, then remembered that Charlie was in a similar situation to Nora, only the other way around, and had likely done it exactly for that joke.

There was also Bill, who worked in Africa as a curse breaker on Egyptian tombs.

“It’s not really treasure hunting; it’s mostly disassembling the curses old Wizards put on the tombs four thousand years ago.” He told them over dinner. “So that if Muggles find them by accident they don’t get turned into Sphinxes or something.”

“I should hope so.” Hermione said.

“And it’s not just Egypt, although that’s where I’m based currently.” Bill said. “Wadata brought me in last week to take a look at this tomb set into Kilimanjaro.”

“Who’s Wadata?” Ron asked with a full mouth.

“Wizarding nation-state, situated somewhere in the northern Congo Jungle.” He said, shielding his eyes from his youngest brother. “I’ve never been there myself, but from what I’ve heard it’s something else.”

 

After dinner Mr Weasley gently suggested the boys go to bed early. When this didn’t work, Mrs Weasley told them she wouldn’t be escorting Hera, Hermione, Ginny, and Nora to the back paddock for the full moon until they were in bed, and that the moon is a lot less patient than her husband. This worked significantly better.

“I just said that to get them moving, Ginny and Hera know where the orchard is.” She said, loading them up with packs of food. They soon began the long walk to the back paddock.

They had been walking for a while before Hermione let out a laugh.

“What’s the joke?” Ginny asked, turning back while walking.

“I just realised that we’re a group of young witches heading off in the middle of the night to go frolic naked under the full moon.” She said, not bothering to suppress a grin. Nora and Ginny looked mystified, and although Hera thought she might have heard of it somewhere, she wasn’t sure where. “All we need is some mouldy bread and we’re all set.”

“Err, you might need to explain that one, ‘Mione.” She said.

“Oh, of course, Muggles used to believe witches danced naked in the woods to talk to demons.” Hermione said. “Specifically, during the Salem Witch trials, it’s believed that a type of wheat mould was causing hallucinations.”

“If a demon does turn up, we’ll eat well.” Ginny chuckled. “I’ve always wanted to try barbecue.”

“Oh, so barbecue you know about.” Hermione said sarcastically.

“We do kinda frolic naked, don’t we?” Hera said, she had never really thought about it like that; under all that fur they might as well be clothed.

“That’ll be awkward once we get older,” Hermione said. “Imagine what our boyfriends will think?”

A boyfriend?

Hera had never really put much thought into a boyfriend; really most boys were just annoyances, like Ron and that blond boy in Slytherin she kept forgetting the name of. The rest were… never really something she thought about.

She tried to picture herself getting married to a boy, wearing a white dress; herself, not the boy she was marrying. Or maybe the person she was marrying _was_ wearing the white dress, and she was wearing a suit?

Her heart fluttered.

An awkward silence followed Hermione’s question.

 

They finally reached the orchard, climbed the gate, or unlocked and stepped through it in Hermione and Nora’s cases, and conducted their little pre-change ritual of throwing out the meat they had brought with them, then lying on the grass to wait for the moon to call them.

“You know…” Nora said. “I wasn’t sure if I was going to like this.”

“Why not?” Hera looked over to her.

“I- stupid stuff,” She said.

“Nora, it’s okay, you can tell us.” Ginny said, propping herself up on an elbow to look at her over Hera.

“Like, all the werewolves you hear about are men…” She said. “I know it’s not good to compare myself to them, but I can’t help it.”

“Nora…” Hera said, she trailed off, not sure what to say.

“I sort of get what you’re saying, Nora.” Hermione said. “Despite the fact the most of the werewolves in the public eye are there for negative reasons, and you would probably prefer more people like professor Lupin to become well known, having only men there makes it difficult to see yourself there without filtering it through that lens, which brings up the negative ways people have treated you since you went through the ritual.”

“I- that’s a lot, but yeah…”

“It’s really not the same… but there’s only two other black people in our year. Blaise in Slytherin, and Dean Thomas, but I so rarely get a chance to talk to Blaise it’s difficult to have a friendship with him, and Dean is always hanging out with Seamus.” Hermione said. “Honestly, just to have someone to vent with who gets it would be great. Dean would be ideal, he’s also muggleborn, but he’s still a boy.”

“I’m sorry Hermione.” Hera said, trying to offer sympathy.

“It’s alright Hera, you’re all great and your friendship means so much to me… but still.” She said.

They felt the pull of the moon.

“So much for all the deep personal talking…” Hermione said.

Hera unbuttoned her shirt, it was the one she had bought last year in Hogsmeade with the other three, and currently had a pattern of little strawberries. She would truly hate to get it dirty, so she tucked it into her bag, trying not to look to where her friends were also undressing.

Once she had finished changing, thoughts of self-consciousness left her mind. She walked over Ginny just in time for her to stand up, and rubbed her head against her neck. It was nice to see her again. She bumped her softly and gestured over to the meat laid out on the grass.

They walked over together and snapped some up. Hera finished a slab and moved over to say hello to Nora and Hermione. She licked Hermione’s shoulder, and the wolf returned it in greeting. Nora was focussing on trying to tear a particularly tough piece of meat from a larger slab, so Hera dug her teeth in to hold it steady. Nora managed to tear it free and ate it. She brushed her head against Hera’s, and Hera slunk along the other wolf, occasionally swatting her with her tail.

They ate till there was no food left, and although they were mostly full, she craved a hunt. She looked over to Ginny, who seemed to be the best at catching scents. Ginny shook her head, nothing here tonight. It was a tended orchard, after all.

Never matter, Hera took off after nothing, just enjoying feeling the wind in her fur, and the moon shining down on her.

Her mind focussed in on the sound of her paws hitting the ground.

Thum-thump, thum-thump, thum-thump. Over and over again as she ran. The others caught up after she turned a corner in the aisles of trees.

Thum-thump, thum-thumt, she tripped, flipping end over end before falling down in the soft grass and earth, breathing heavily.

She got up, tenderly testing to see if she had sustained any significant wounds. Everything seemed in order, Nora came up to her and looked enquiringly, she yipped to communicate that she was fine. Nora rubbed against her cheek. Then they ran again.

 

Hera awoke early the next morning. Her arm was slung over Hermione’s stomach. She pulled it away quickly and rolled over.

On the other side of her, Ginny yawned as she awoke.

“Good morning.” She said.

“Hi.” Hera replied, she sat up and brushed herself off, before moving over to get dressed. The four of them woke one after another, dressed, and then set off back towards the burrow together.

 

They heard on the wireless as they were about to leave that night that the match was over already. Ireland won. The boys would be home tomorrow.

They were much sooner than they expected. The boys got in sooner than them. Mr Weasley was already gone, and Ron had hurried up to his room. Ginny sidled up to the twins after they had managed to extract themselves from one of their mother’s hugs.

“Oh, that’s right-“ Said one.

“You wouldn’t have heard yet.” The other said.

“Perhaps I should tell the story.” Charlie said, dropping into an armchair awkwardly and swivelling it towards the kitchen bench where they were eating breakfast.

“The cup went over fine, Krum caught the Snitch when Ireland was one sixty up, but whatever.” He said.

“Exactly as we predicted.” One of the twins said.

“We were all settling down to bed when a bunch of Death Eaters began marching.” Charlie said, then added. “Voldemort’s supporters.”

“They got hold of the muggle bloke who ran the camp ground-“ A twin said.

“And his family, too.” The other added.

“Yeah, they were floating them, lucky we managed to get them down before anything permanent could be done.” Charlie said.

That was bad, obviously; Hera wanted to say something, to comfort Hermione next to her especially, but every time she got an idea of what to say it slipped away.

“That’s disgusting.” Ginny declared. “Did you catch any of them?”

“Unfortunately, no, they were scared off.” He said.

“Scared off?” Nora asked, “What would do that? If they were willing to go around torturing muggles.”

“The Dark Mark.” Charlie said significantly.

“Voldemort’s mark.” Hermione said.

“Wait, if they’re Voldemort’s followers then why would they be scared of his mark?” Hera asked. “Wouldn’t they be happy to see it?”

“Not really, they’re fine with indulging in their prejudices when they think they won’t get caught.” Charlie said. “But when Voldemort fell a bunch of them turned their backs on him, claimed they were under the Imperious curse.”

“The Imperious curse?” Ginny asked.

“I’m not sure I should tell you this.” Charlie said with a face that told them he absolutely was about to tell them it. “But it’s one of several ‘unforgivable curses’, if you can be proven to have done it without permission of the ministry you go straight to Azkaban.”

Hera’s mind flashed back to an old board game Dudley had in his second bedroom, the words ‘Go straight to jail, do not pass go, do not collect $200’ echoed in her head.

“The Imperious curse allows the caster to bend the target to their will.” Charlie continued. “And if Voldemort was back, he probably wouldn’t be too pleased with his followers turning on him.”

 

A few days before the end of the Holidays, Sirius finally got out of Hospital, he was still suffering from severe malnutrition but that could apparently be handled now with regular potions and meals. He was going to accompany the occupants of the Burrow to Diagon Alley, hoping that he could claim ownership of the Black vault now that he was the only one left.

“My two big goals right now are helping Remus with your werewolf project in Wales,” He told Hera during breakfast before they left. “And setting up a place for us to live, somewhere out in the country near a forest.”

“That sounds nice.” She said. “Thanks.”

Hermione looked up from her conversation with Bill about some Wadatans he had recognised at the World Cup.

“Hey, Sirius, when does Hera gain access to the Potter vault?” She asked.

“She should already have access to it,” He said. “How did you buy your books and stuff the previous years?”

“I got it from my vault.” Hera said.

“That’s just your trust vault, though, isn’t it?” Hermione asked.

“Trust vault?” Sirius asked, “What’s that?”

“It’s like where your parents deposit money for you to use in case they die.” She said.

“Huh, it’d be an alien concept to me, and I was raised in as wizarding family as you can get.” Sirius said. “What was the vault number?”

“Six hundred and eighty-seven.” Hera said, reciting from memory.

“That’s the Potter vault, James took me there a few times after his parents died.”

“I’ve never heard of trusting vaults either, and I work for Gringotts, in case anyone wanted to ask me.” Said Bill, a little put out.

“It sounds like an alright idea, I guess.” Sirius said, gesturing to Hermione, “But it’s just not the done thing. The Patriarch, or the last surviving and unmarried female house member, in Hera’s case, is the only one that can access the vault.”

“Unmarried?” Hera asked.

“Well,” Sirius grimaced slightly, puffing out his top lip. “By wizarding law, married witches entirely become part of their husband’s house. In terms of the family tree I’m not the only surviving ‘Black’, there’s a few who are in Azkaban, but the rest are married women.”

“Well that seems misogynistic.” Hermione said. “It sounds downright medieval.”

“No, I agree.” Sirius said, putting his hands up defensively. “but I definitely wouldn’t want my cousin Narcissa gaining access to the Black vaults. Andromeda would be better than me, if she hadn’t been disowned.”

“Disowned?” Hera asked. “Why?”

“Married a muggleborn.” He said simply.

There was a pause.

“That reminds me, I want to get back in contact with her.” Sirius said. “She was my favourite cousin. Well, favourite first cousin; James was my favourite cousin overall.”

“You and James Potter were cousins?” Hermione asked.

“Second cousins, my great Aunt Dorea married James’ father.” He said. “All the pureblood families are inter-related. Molly’s uncle Ignatius is also my uncle. I could probably trace half the surnames in your year onto the Black family tree, if I could be bothered to remember it.”

“That seems like it might get a little…” Hermione paused for a second before settling on “Homogenous.”

“Yeah, it does.” He said.

 

They entered Gringotts later that morning and Sirius waved them off, assuring them he would be a while.

Hera, Hermione, Nora, and Ginny split off from the group and made their way to Flourish and Blotts to buy their new books. Ginny needed books for her newly chosen third year electives, Muggle studies and Care of Magical creatures.

As they left, Hera looked over to the second-hand bookshop she had visited the previous summer.

“Hey, there’s this great second-hand bookshop over there, want to have a look?” She asked the group. She spoke specifically to Hermione. “It’s where I found that book of muggle myths.”

“Oh! That sounds good.” She said. “I hope we can find some good stuff there.”

The four of them scampered through the crowd and into the shop.

“Hiya, back again?” asked the long-haired shopkeeper.

“Yeah, I’ve brought my friends too.” Hera said, smiling.

“I hope you find something interesting.” She said, and turned away to look at something behind her. Her hair swished and caught the light nicely. Sensing she had looked at her for just a little too long to be polite, Hera lead her friends around to the trunk with the second-hand books.

“These are interesting.” Said Hermione, drawing her finger across the spines. “Is that a first edition copy of ‘Fantastic Beasts’?” She withdrew the thin book from the trunk.

Ginny had taken to looking around the other things in the shop, but Nora was just starring at the books.

“Nora?” Hera said, noticing her inaction.

“I- This… I recognise this trunk.” She said, kneeling down closer to it. “Excuse me, Hermione.” Hermione shuffled back with the copy of the textbook clutched tightly in her hands. Nora leaned around the side of the trunk, looking at the initials plated into it. “A. N. P.”

“What is it, Nora?” Hera asked.

“I- I think this was my mother’s.” She said softly. “Those are her initials from before she married my dad. And I remember it.”

“You’re sure?” Hera said, eyes wide.

“There’s one way to make sure.” She said, and pressed her thumb to a little metal embellishment on the inside roof of the trunk. There was a click, and the inside of the roof seemed to separate from the outside. Between them was a small compartment, but still far too large to fit between the inside and outside roofs. “It is.” Nora said, her eyes sparkling slightly. Inside the compartment was a pair of garments, one was a carefully folded set of red and black robes, the other was a decorative red and brown dress. “It’s hers.” Her eyes were shining with tears now.

“I thought we’d lost it.” She sniffed. Hera wrapped her arms around Nora’s shoulder. “It was in the attic… I cried when it vanished.” Hera had a thought.

“The shopkeeper lady told me last year that an old woman had brought it in, that must have been your Nan.” She said. “She said that she thought she had gotten rid of it because it was painful memories.”

“Yeah, that’s my Nan.” Nora said. “She could never open this compartment.” She said, gesturing to the clothes. “I think she thought it was just books, but I managed to.” She laid a hand on the red and brown dress. She sat for a few seconds, breathing deeply. She pointed to the red and black robes. “That’s from when my mum used to be an Auror.”

“Your mum was an Auror?” Ginny asked. “That’s so cool.”

“Yeah…” Nora said. Her hand went to the money bag on her belt, she opened it and peered inside. “I might have enough to buy it back. But only the trunk.”

“Well then,” Hermione pushed closed the secret compartment. “Only you can open it now, right? Who’s to say it’s anything other than a plain trunk.”

“Oh Hermione, I could kiss you.” Nora said.

“Yes, yes,” Hermione said a light blush tinging her cheeks.

A few minutes later, Nora was dragging her mother’s ‘empty’ trunk along behind her. The books had been transferred to another bookshelf in the store.

 

## Year 4 Chapter 2

A few days later the four of them boarded the Hogwarts express. Hera and Ginny were leaning out the window to say goodbye to Mrs Weasley, Charlie, Bill, Sirius, and Remus.

Mr Weasley had been called away to deal with some business earlier that morning, and Percy was still dealing with the fallout from the Death Eater march at the Quidditch world cup, as well as the disappearance of a ministry witch on holiday in Albania of all places.

“Me and Remus are going house hunting after this.” Sirius told her, as he slung an arm around the older werewolf. “but we’ll be seeing you soon I expect.”

“So will I.” Charlie said. “It’s going to be pretty interesting as Hogwarts this year.”

“What?” Ginny asked. “Is something going on there this year?”

“Is it to do with the fancy clothes they told us to bring?” Nora asked from behind Hera.

“Goodbye now.” Said Remus cheekily, and the train was moving. Soon they slipped out of sight and around a bend. Nora, Ginny, and Hera sat down.

“You know, I just wish one year at Hogwarts was relatively normal.” Hermione said.

 

About an hour later there was a knock at the compartment door.

“Who do you think it is?” Hera hissed.

“Malfoy?” Nora surmised, drawing her wand.

“I don’t think he has enough manners to knock.” Ginny said.

“How about we open it and find out?” Hermione suggested, and stood up and opened the door to reveal a Hufflepuff girl with long red-brown hair.

“Hi, I’m Susan Bones.” She said assuredly. She waved to Nora. “Hi Nora.”

“Susan! Hi.” Nora said, waving back.

“Sorry to barge in like this, but my Aunt Amelia wanted me to pass along a message to Hera and her friends.” She said, a slight blush on her cheeks. Then added, “She’s head of the Auror office at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.” By way of an explanation.

“Oh, okay, what was it?” Hera said, a bit taken aback by this girl.

“She wanted me to pass on her thanks for bringing Sirius Black to justice.” She said, then she seemed to realise how that sounded. “But like, in a good way. They were friendly at Hogwarts, you see.”

“Wait, are you saying that Sirius dated the future head of the DMLE?” Ginny asked, laughing slightly.

Susan let out a snort.

“No, no, nothing like that, they were just friends.” She said. “Anyway, I’ll see you four around the castle, I expect.”

She shut the door behind her.

 

The rest of the train ride went by fairly quickly, and soon enough they were riding up to the school in the carriages, and taking their seats at the Gryffindor table.

“The Defence seat is empty still.” Ginny said.

“I wonder what Lupin’s replacement is going to be like?” Hermione asked.

“Whoever it is, I hope they’re better than Lockhart.” Nora said. “That pixie lesson was the only time I was grateful that I had to wear pants.”

“I just hope they’re better than Quirrel.” Hera chuckled. “He did try to kill me, after all.”

“Hmm.” Nora pursed her lips. “Good p-“ She was interrupted when the ghost of Nearly Headless Nick floated up through the table.

“Good evening, ladies.” He said dourly, floating up and away from them.

“Is he acting a bit weird?” Hera asked, “Do you think?”

“Yeah, he’s being weird.” Hermione agreed. “Let’s ask him later.”

A few minutes later, the headmaster Albus Dumbledore took the main podium and announced that the sorting ceremony would now begin. A group of first years were led in by professor McGonagall. The sorting hat divided them among the four houses, and Dumbledore returned to the podium for a few start of term notices.

“Our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher is running a little late,” He said. “But I am sure that when he arrives you will do your best to welcome him.”

Hera wondered idly why he would be running late, surely on the first day of term it was important to actually turn up.

“Secondly, there will be a series of events taking place throughout the year.” He said, whispers broke out from the students. Dumbledore allowed these to pass.

“For the first time in many centuries, the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts.” This proclamation caused gasps to echo across the hall.

“Really now, I will have to silence the lot of you if you keep interrupting me.” He said. “In late October, we will be joined by delegations from the Durmstrang Institute of Spellcraft, and from Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. From each of the competing schools a single champion will be chosen to represent them in three extremely dangerous and challenging tasks.”

Whispers, although much quieter, given Dumbledore’s earlier ‘threat’ broke out like fires around the hall. People wondering who would enter, saying they would, and what the prize was for winning.

“As such, we have chosen to impose an age limit,” Dumbledore said. “In the very previous tournament, two of the Champions died tragic deaths, we at Hogwarts, Durmstrang, and Beauxbatons feel it should be against the rules for anyone under the age of seventeen to enter the tournament.”

More boos leapt from many of the students. Hera was relieved though, she had a horrible feeling that whoever would be choosing the champions probably would have had a headshot with her face on it that they were seriously considering. Perhaps this year, Hermione’s wish could come true.

The door to the great hall opened. The man crossed the threshold and made his way up to the staff table, taking the previously unoccupied Defence teacher’s seat.

“Might I introduce, Professor Moody?” Dumbledore said.

“That’s Alastor Moody!” Nora whispered excitedly. “He’s an Ex-Auror. He taught my parents!”

“That’s who my dad went to help out this morning.” Ginny whispered. “Apparently he’s super paranoid.”

“And now, I believe that is all for the announcements,” Dumbledore said. “And it is time to sink our teeth into our delicious feast.”

Food appeared on the tables, Hera was about to get stuck in when she noticed Nearly Headless Nick floating along behind her.

“Hey, Nick.” She asked, he paused in his floating and looked at her. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Oh, I am a little perturbed, young Potter.” He said. “Thank you for asking. Peeves was making a fuss, he wanted to attend the feast; had the house elves in an uproar.”

Hermione dropped her fork.

“Sorry, are you saying Hogwarts has house elves?” She said.

“Yes, largest detachment in Great Britain.” Nick said.

Hermione clenched her jaw.

“How much are they paid?” She asked, with an expression that said she already knew.

“Paid? House elves don’t want pay.”

“What about unions?” She asked. “And sick days?”

“None of those, either, whatever unions are.”

“So, they’re slaves?” She asked, Hera grimaced, remembering all the things she had had to do while she was at the Dursleys.

Hermione rounded on Nora and Ginny. “Did you two know about this?”

“Well, yeah.” Ginny said. “But my family could never afford one, they’re really only found in the old wizarding families.”

“Yeah, Longbottoms since before my gran have been trying to stop it.” Nora said. “But it’s a little difficult when most everyone else wants them to stay slaves, or doesn’t care.”

“Then we need to figure out a way to help them that doesn’t depend on the good will of rich purebloods.” Hermione said.

“You can help them by accepting that they like being slaves.” Nick said, as if he were instructing a pre-schooler.

“Nick, you’ve been here five hundred years,” Hermione said. “Can you honestly tell me, when other humans were enslaved that no one used that argument for them?”

“You’re running up against a brick wall talking to a ghost-“ a Weasley twin said, leaning over to Hermione.

“But if you want, we can show you how to get in to the kitchens and meet the house elves.” The other said, leaning over from the opposite side of the table as his twin.

She looked down at her food.

“Alright,” Hermione said, “Later this week, I’ll need to do some research first.” She resumed eating, with extra venom.

“I’ll help you, Hermione.” Hera volunteered. “The Dursleys treated me like a slave, so the least I can do is continue what I helped start with Dobby.”

 

The next few days seemed to be filled with talk of nothing but the Triwizard Tournament. That is, to people who were not Hera and Hermione. Although Nora and Ginny weren’t helping them skim history books; Nora had written to her Gran, asking for information on House Elf rights movements she knew of.

Augusta Longbottom replied a few days later, saying she would be shipping copies of the documents separately, and congratulating Hermione on her interest in the topic.

Despite this spot of hope, Hermione was thoroughly annoyed.

“Ugh!” she said the day before she had agreed to go to the kitchens with the Weasley twins. “This is all useless! It’s just stuff about: House elves are bound from birth to a family, person, or magical institution, they like being enslaved, they’ve existed since time immemorial.”

“It’s terrible.” Hera agreed, flopping down onto the thick tome she was reading. “And lots of these books contradict each other, too. Some say that Elves will slowly die if they are not bound to an owner, others just say they are deeply unhappy. Dobby was nothing like that when I freed him.”

“Wizarding memory stretches back way further than non-magical, and yet house elves apparently existed even before that?” Hermione said. “Thousands of years ago, even before this modern version of civilisation came along; but then how could they not live without being slaves at one point? They must have had to live on their own to survive up to this point.” She glanced at the clock. “Hera, we should probably head to Defence class.”

“Yeah.” She said and sat up, closing the book. “It wouldn’t be good to miss our first lesson with Moody.”

They put their books back, noting the pages they had skimmed to, and made their way down to the classroom.

Hera noticed that blond haired Slytherin boy leaning against a gargoyle a few corridors before the classroom.

“So, are you thinking of entering the Tournament, Potter?” He said, it sounded nice enough, but there was something about him that made her sure his intentions were not entirely based in curiosity.

“No.” She said, not stopping walking. “I’m not old enough anyway, I’m only fourteen.”

“Ah.” He said, with the expression of someone who had just drawn the exact card they needed to win a game. “But how much is that in dog years?”

Anger lanced through her. She breathed in sharply. She let it out slowly, trying to calm down. Hera turned around.

“What is your problem with me?” She asked point plank.

“You want to know what my problem with you is?” He said, “I assure you, I don’t have one.”

“Good.” She said, not believing him in the slightest. She was about to turn and walk away when a thought occurred to her. “Sorry, I forgot, what’s your name, again?”

Hera turned and made to follow Hermione. She felt a tingle on her back, and a sudden nausea rocked her, which suddenly reduced to a light buzz. A bang sounded out behind her and Hera and Hermione turned to look.

“Cowardly fool.” Professor Moody was levitating a large, white ferret.

Although McGonagall came along before anything permanent had been done to the blond boy, he still appeared to have learnt something of a lesson. Not least because several other people had come running from the sound of spells.

Moody stumped his way towards the two of them, and past them into the corridor containing his classroom.

“You can all put your books away.” He growled from the front of the classroom. “Notetaking equipment today.” Hera and Hermione sat down next to Nora.

“Today I will be telling you about several of the Unforgivable Curses.” He said, writing the heading on the board. “So called because…?” He trailed off

“The use of one of them on a fellow human will be charged with a life sentence in Azkaban.” Hermione said.

“Eeerrgh” Moody made a sound that indicated she was incorrect. “Can anyone tell me what was wrong with Miss-“ He offered a hand to Hermione.

“Granger”

“Miss Granger’s answer?” he continued.

There was an awkward silence, the class seemed to think if Hermione had gotten it wrong, they had no chance. Hera was wheeling through thoughts in her mind.

“ _Use of one of them on a fellow human will be charged with a life sentence in Azkaban_ ”

Could it be the part on ‘Fellow human’ that she got wrong? Her mind flashed back to Lupin’s class last year, where he was explaining the legal impacts of the ‘beast vs being’ categorisation. The use of one on, say, a centaur would not carry the same consequences. So that part was probably correct…

They definitely had life sentences in Azkaban. Sirius’s was one of them…

“Aaart” Moody said. “Times’s up. The statement has many problems. First off, the most obvious. A few years ago, Aurors were given permission to use unforgivable to bring in Voldemort’s forces.”

“So, the unforgivable can be used in certain circumstances.” He said. “Secondly, there are other circumstances that could be defensible, but we’ll talk about them later. The statement also seems to assume a causation between the casting and the charging.”

Hermione groaned in frustration next to her.

“There is no trace on Adult’s wands, as such, it is impossible to tell if a wand produced the curse the instant it was cast, let alone if the owner is the one using it.” He said. “You are not charged the instant you use an Unforgivable.”

“Can anyone else think of anything wrong with that statement?” he said. Hera wracked her brains.

“No?” He said. “Then I’ll give you the right answer.”

Hermione took up her quill.

“There is no right answer.” He said. “If you think that you can justify your use of a specific unforgivable to yourself, and to the Wizengamut, in that situation, you can use that unforgivable in that situation. But know that you must be very sure, your future freedom depends on it. For example, the Imperious curse.”

He went to his desk and from a jar pulled a large spider. He put it on his desk.

“ _Imperio_.” He cast, and the spider stopped still. “Gives the caster total control. It was rather tricky in the previous war, many former death eaters claimed they only did Voldemort’s bidding because they were under its influence.” The spider began to walk towards the edge of the desk.

“However, say this spider represents a person, they are standing on the edge of a rather tall building.” He said as the spider reached the edge of the desk. “Entirely of their own free will. They are about to jump. Kill themselves on the ground below. Could the use of the Imperious curse be defended if you were here?”

“Of course not, free will.”

“Free will is going to lead to this spider’s death.” Moody said. “What if it were someone you cared about, someone you didn’t want to die? Could you not use the imperious curse to remove them from this dangerous situation?”

The class was silent.

“That’s correct. I can tell you’re all thinking about it, and ‘it’ being if you could justify the imperious curse.” He said. “but I must stress, not wanting to take away someone’s free will is not an incorrect answer.”

“The imperious curse is something of an oddball amongst the three major unforgivable curses.” He said. “It is the only one that is not fundamentally designed to cause harm; physical harm, at least, mental harm from the loss of one’s free will is entirely incalculable.”

“Can anyone else tell me about another curse?” He said. Some hands went up around the room.

“Yes,” Moody said, pointing to Nora, who had raised her hand nervously. “Miss-“

“Longbottom, sir.” She said.

“Longbottom…” Moody said thoughtfully. “Well, the curse?”

“The Cruciatus curse.” She said. Hera’s eyes flicked to her friend, and moved a hand under the desk to clutch brush against Nora’s leg. She took the offered hand.

“It needs to be a bit bigger for you to see clearly.” He said, and with a wave of his wand the spider doubled in size. “ _Crucio_.”

Nora flinched in Hera’s hand as the spider started to scream, and even though Moody only kept the curse on it for a few seconds, by the end, Nora’s hand was clammy and cold.

“Pain.” Moody said. “Torture. You don’t need knives or thumbscrews to extract information if you can use the Cruciatus curse.” He went silent. “Can anyone tell me why this is the least useful, in terms of use by dark wizards, of the unforgivable?”

“Because if you are being tortured, you’ll say anything to make it stop, even make up information you don’t know.” Hermione said.

“Correct.” He said. “Another.”

The students sat there for a few seconds before they realised, he was asking for another curse. Hera’s thumb stroked the back of Nora’s hand.

“The Blood Boiling curse.” Said a voice from the class.

“A minor unforgivable, but still, it meets the criteria.” He pointed his wand at the spider again, and it backed away in fear. “Which I’m not going to show you today, it tends to be very messy, for reference it is exactly what it sounds like.”

“The disembowelling curse?” another voice said.

“Another messy one, it draws up the intestines of the target through the mouth.” He said. “Slow and painful.”

Finally, they reached the last major unforgivable. It seemed obvious, like everyone had been avoiding it.

“The killing curse.” Hermione said.

“ _Avada Kedavra_.” Moody cast suddenly. Green light flashed. The spider fell down, curled in on itself, dead. “The killing curse. Completely unblockable, instant death, and only one person is known to have survived it.” Moody’s eyes flicked to Hera.

“Now.” He said. “Can anyone tell me what the Cruiciatus, Killing, Blood boiling, Dissembowling, Flaying, etcetera curses have in common that the Imperious curse doesn’t?”

No one responded for a second.

“like you said before, professor, they all cause harm.” Hermione said.

“I did? Yes.” He said. “The only thing these curses can do is hurt people, that is what they are designed for; if you are casting them, that is viewed as intent enough for them to hit someone. That’s why another spell might be just as lethal if you want it to be, like levitating a boulder over someone’s head to crush them, but if you cast these spells at someone you want them to die screaming, or just die.”

“Now, back to the beginning of our lesson,” He said, straightening up slightly. “When might be an acceptable situation to use the killing curse?”

 

“He’s intense, isn’t he?” Said one of the Weasley twins the next day as they were leading Hera and Hermione down to the kitchens, marvelling at their reactions to Moody’s lesson.

“I guess.” Hera said, still not quite able to say how she felt about it.

“There’s definite truth in what he’s saying.” Hermione said. “I’m just not sure fourteen-year-olds are in the most level-headed place to hear it.”

“What d’you mean?” The other twin asked.

“Just… at fourteen we’ve gotta be too hopped up on hormones to make good decisions about that sort of thing.” She said. “Although I suppose that’s were his imperious curse exception come in too.”

“Sure.” The twin said. “Here we are.”

They had arrived at a basement corridor. Just underneath the great hall by Hera’s approximation. There was a portrait of a basket of fruit at the end.

One of the twins walked right up to it and poked the pear off to the side, then began to move his finger back and forth, like he was rubbing it; or from the soft laughter coming from the pear, he was tickling it. The pear writhed under his ministrations, twisting this way and that until it popped out of the painting entirely, forming a door handle.

He twisted it and the portrait swung open to reveal the kitchens.

Hera had barely stepped inside and seen the dozens of elves working before a beige blur attached itself to her leg.

“Misses Hera Potter!” it squeaked.

“Dobby?” Hera said, peeling the elf back from her leg. “What are you doing here?”

“Dobby is working here, Miss!” he said, smiling.

The four of them talked to Dobby, and although the other elves had been preparing dinner, they still found time to bring out tea and nibbles for them. Dobby recounted his tail, wandering from job to job, but no one wanted an elf who wanted to be paid. He had met up with Winky, another house elf that Fred and George recognised at Barty Crouch’s, from at the Quidditch World Cup. She had been forcibly freed for setting off the Dark Mark, even though Mr Crouch had insisted he would never have taught his servant such a thing.

They had made their way to Hogwarts together, and now Dobby was getting paid a galleon a week.

“But that’s not even five pounds a week!” Hermione said. “The minimum Wage is three pound sixty an hour!”

A lot of the elves scowled at Dobby’s proclamation that he was getting paid. Quite a contrast to their beaming smiles at all other times.

They left the kitchens half an hour later, after thanking the elves for their hard work and sending up meat for them every month. They were laden down with cakes, sweets, and in Hera’s case, chewy dried jerky.

“See, Hermione.” One of the twins said. “Elves don’t want pay.”

“Dobby does.” She said simply.

“Well, he’s the exception that proves the rule, then.”

“That’s not what that means, Fred.” Hermione said. Hera tugged on Hermione’s sleave.

“Were you getting kind of a weird vibe in there?” Hera asked. “like, when the elves smiled it wasn’t like how Dobby was smiling.”

“I know what you mean, there’s more to this.” She said.

“Alright, but don’t say we didn’t try to help you.” One of the twins said.

 

## Year 4 Chapter 3

The first two months of school slid past. But during that time Nora’s Gran’s documents hadn’t been delivered yet.

Nora had written to say so, and she replied that she would re-copy them and deliver them in person on their next Hogsmeade weekend.

Hermione had made very little headway on researching house elves at the library, and decided to ask about it in the village during said Hogsmeade weekend.

Sirius had managed to deliver a letter of his though; he had successfully taken control of the Black Vaults (despite a challenge from his cousin Narcissa) and had bought a remote little cottage. Remus was going well spreading the word about their findings, and thanks to bankrolling by Sirius the werewolves he had been talking to were eating well, especially when they changed.

Two full moons passed before the day before Halloween, when the delegations from the other schools were to arrive. Ginny outdid herself in September’s moon by tracking a stray sheep that had wandered into the forest.

On the second night of the October moon they were just about to start a hunt when a small delegation of centaurs left the forest, heading towards them.

“Hail, noble wolves.” It was Ronan, the centaur they had met last year with Lupin. Hera moved forwards and cocked her head to the side in a curious manner. “We have been waiting for you.”

Hera barked.

“Straight to the point, very well.” He said. “You are aware, of course, of the Acromantula colony in the forest?”

Hera nodded. She felt Hermione pad up beside her.

“Would I be correct in saying that in it, we share a common enemy?” he asked.

Hera nodded.

“We have planned a raid to beat back some of the larger arachnids to their hollow.” He said. “We would be most honoured if you would assist us.”

“It would not be against the hollow itself, merely against individuals too far from it.” Ronan clarified.

Hera turned to Hermione. She shifted, but eventually nodded. Ginny nodded, and Nora considered it before nodding as well. Hera nodded.

“Excellent.” Ronan said. “Follow us.” With that, he turned and led them into the forest.

Hera took a moment to sniff the air, there was low wind, so they should be able to tell if there was anyone creeping up behind them. Hopefully this group of centaurs wasn’t foolish enough to turn on them.

A centaur from the group slowed to allow Hera to catch up with him.

“Hello,” He said. “I’m not sure if you remember me, I’m Magorian.”

She huffed in affirmative.

“I do wish my beloved could be with us on today’s hunt, but unfortunately he is rather ill.” Magorian said. She looked at him. “My beloved, Firenze.”

She huffed again, from what she had seen of Magorian, he was fairly down to earth compared to Firenze; they would make a nice couple.

“He is the one who suggested we enlist your aid.” Magorian said. “Tell me, is it true you interrogated Aragog himself and lived to tell the tale?”

She nodded.

“Incredible.” He said, “With you and your pack with us, we have no chance of defeat.”

“Halt.” Ronan said. “There’s a pack of scouts up ahead.” He drew a bow. “Spears.” The rest did the same, Magorian silently trotted up to re-join the others. “Wolves, can you go around to the left and cut them off?”

Hera barked, and started walking to the left, Nora, Ginny and Hermione following.

“We’re going around to the right, draw closer until you see them, then wait for my signal.” He said, and led the centaurs off to the right.

Hera slipped under a fallen trunk and turned to the right, closing in on the spiders.

There was about thirty in the clearing, each about the size of a student’s cauldron. Hera moved along to surround them further. Hera crept closer to the clearing edge.

An arrow flew into the clearing, hitting one of the spiders. This had to be the signal. Hera leapt out and charged, sinking her fangs into one of the spiders. She turned and took out another as her ‘pack’, as Magorian had called them, charged into the fray.

The centaurs entered the clearing and began attacking the spiders. Stabbing the grounded spiders like rubbish on the ends of their spears.

The spiders tasted terrible, but the hunt itself was sweet enough. The ambush took less than a minute to deal with most of the spiders, some having scuttled off too quickly.

Hera spat out a mouthful of spider viscera, and sat back on her hind legs, a howl rising in her throat. Her pack joined in, and soon the forest reverberated with the sounds of their celebration.

The centaurs accompanied them back to the edge of the forest.

“My greatest thanks to you.” Ronan said. “If I am not mistaken, tomorrow night is the last of the full moon. I will have one of us deliver a token of our gratitude to you.”

Hera barked to bid farewell, and led the others back up to the stone circle to sleep the rest of the night away.

She woke the next day eager to wash the taste of Spider out of her mouth with breakfast, and interested in what this token would be.

Magorian brought them the token that night. It turned out to be a sack of a leafy plant, as well as several hunks of venison. He left after explaining that it is to be chewed, and bidding they enjoy it.

Hera wasn’t sure what the plant was, but decided to try some anyway.

She stood and chewed idly. Nora, Ginny and Hermione tried some too. Before long the night devolved into a blur of teething on the venison, barking back and forth to one another, and rolling in the grass, before settling down to sleep all squished together.

They were rather giggly when they returned to the great hall for breakfast the next morning.

 

First thing that morning was Defence with Moody, who would be putting the Imperius curse on each of them, to teach them to fight it off.

“ _Imperio_.” He cast again and again. Hera watched her classmates do silly things under the curse. Her barely restrained laughter had earned her several telling offs by Moody, she bit her hand until it was her turn. Finally, she moved to the centre of the room and he cast it.

She felt a voice enter her head, it was saying something.

“ _Jump onto the desk_.”

There was a desk in front of her, but was that the desk the voice meant? Maybe there was another desk that she should be jumping onto. She looked around the room, there were no other desks in the circle of students, perhaps this was the desk? She raised her hand, presuming that the voice belonged to someone who could also hear her.

“Sorry, which desk did you want me to jump onto?” Hera asked the classroom at large. “There is this one but I just wanted to make sure you meant it.” The classroom burst out with laughter.

The voice left.

“Look at that!” Moody half shouted. “Potter fought it off! A good thing, too, with all your disruptions I would have given you detention if you couldn’t at least fight it a bit.”

“Oh, thanks professor.” She said and moved back into the circle.

“Goog- Good job, Hera.” Hermione said, and stepped forward. Hermione and Nora were not as successful as throwing off the curse as Hera. Nora performed a wonderful imitation of a Chicken, and Hermione recited the national anthem in the style of slam poetry.

They exited the lesson a few minutes later. Hera toyed with the clasp on her bag as they headed down to the great hall. A notice outside the great hall indicated that in just a few days classes would end early for them to greet the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang.

During lunch Hermione managed to put the pieces together and realised what the centaurs had given them last night. Half annoyed, half amused, she went back to her food after politely informing Hera, Nora, and when she turned up, Ginny, that they had ‘partook in a mind-altering substance’.

 

## Year 4 Chapter 4

A few days later the students of Hogwarts were arrayed in seven rows looking out onto the grounds, waiting for the delegations.

“How do you think they’re getting here?” Nora asked. “They can’t apparate, and the train’s been here since morning.”

“Who cares about that, how long until they’re here and we get to go inside?” Ginny said from in front of them, shivering.

“I was doing some research on the past tournaments,” Hermione said, ignoring the redhead. “Usually the visiting schools like to show off.”

Show off, they did, as a carriage the size of small house, pulled by six gigantic winged horses touched down on the lawn.

“May I introduce: the delegation from Beauxbatons.” Dumbledore called over the crowd. A woman twice the size of the average women emerged from the carriage, followed by a small group of young men and women. Dumbledore greeted her politely with a kiss on her hand. “Olympe.”

The students and their headmistress retreated into the entrance hall, clutching their thin cloaks tightly around them to stay warm.

Someone pointed over to the lake, and from the isolated body of water rose a ship. A gangplank was raised to the shore, and a group of students disembarked.

“The delegation from Durmstrang.” Dumbledore introduced, and shook the hand of the headmaster.

The Hogwarts students followed them into the castle and lead the way for the three schools into the great hall for the welcoming feast.

Hermione frowned at the many more different dishes that were on offer, which presumably translated into more work for the house elves down in the kitchens.

“I am grateful to be able to eat some more French cuisine.” She said ruefully and tucked in to a shellfish stew. Hera was just helping herself to a lean rare steak when she heard a voice.

“Excuse me, have you finished with the bouillabaisse?” The voice said. Hera looked up and saw one of the Beauxbatons students had come over from the Ravenclaw table. She felt a small blush forming on her cheeks as she gazed upon possibly the most attractive person she had seen in her life. She was tall and lithe, with long silvery hair. Hera had eyes for no one else, but vaguely registered a similar reaction from some of the people around her. She opened her mouth to say something, but the words seemed to disassemble themselves between her brain and her mouth.

The young woman pressed her hand to her face and muttered something in French. Then suddenly, she was gone. Hera blinked.

Hera craned her neck, trying to find her again. She had moved up the table and politely taken a dish of the same shellfish stew from Parvati and Lavender’s group.

“That was weird.” Ginny said, Nora and Hermione nodded in agreement.

“She’s a Veela.” They heard Ron practically shout from near Parvati.

“Oh.” Hermione said, a look of understanding passed over her face.

“What is it Hermione?” Nora asked, a small blush diminishing from her face.

“Oh, er, nothing.” She said. “I’ll tell you later.”

“She’s so pretty.” Hera said quietly.

 

By the time it came for desert, Hera had managed to put the young woman from her mind. However, she wasn’t the only Beauxbatons student to pay them a visit.

“Excuse me, are you Hermione Granger?” Asked another Beauxbatons girl with a Nigerian accent. Her hair was shaved on the sides and braided up in a fuzzy mohawk.

“Yes, that’s me.” Hermione said.

“Awesome. It’s me, Akosi.” She said.

“Oh! Akosi, you’re here!” She said and got up from her seat to hug the other girl. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” Akosi said. Hera’s eyes flicked back and forth between the two. Akosi’s skin was even darker than Hermione’s. Akosi turned to her. “So…. Are you going to introduce me?”

“Oh, yeah.” Hermione said, and pointed to each of them in turn. “Nora Longbottom, Ginny Weasley, and Hera Potter; This is Akosi Asante, my pen pal from Wadata, Bill introduced us over the summer. She’s studying abroad at Beauxbatons.”

They responded politely with a round of ‘hello’s and waves.

“Are you entering the tournament?” Hermione asked. “You were seventeen a few months ago, right?”

“Maybe,” Akosi said. “I just need to find out when the dates for the tournament are.”

“The dates?” Ginny asked. “Why does that matter?”

“Well…” Akosi’s eyes flicked to Hermione. She nodded. “Around june I’ll be indisposed for a few weeks, Hermione can explain why later for me, in a more private setting.”

“Huh, okay.” Ginny said, and dug back in to her pie.

“Anyway, it was good seeing you, Hermione.” Akosi said. “But I should get back to dinner.” She left, walking back to the Ravenclaw table.

“She seems nice.” Hera said to Hermione.

“Yeah, she’s really understanding, too.” Hermione said. “She also tried to send me a bunch of stuff about African house elves, but it never got through. I say house elves, but they’re not house elves, just elves over there.”

“So, they aren’t slaves over in Wadata?” Ginny asked.

“No, they get paid a bunch if they do have jobs as housekeepers, though.” Hermione said. “I’m not sure what to make of it.”

“Well, that’s good, surely.” Hera said.

“I mean, yes, but that just makes me feel even stranger about house elves here.”

The desserts cleared away, and Dumbledore took the podium to explain the rules of the tournament and how to enter. Apparently as long as you were over seventeen you had until this time tomorrow to put your name in a vessel called ‘the Goblet of Fire’.

 

Hera had much bigger things on her mind as Hermione led her, Nora, and Ginny up to the third-year girl’s dormitory to talk privately.

“So, about Akosi?” Nora asked. “Why is she going to be ‘indisposed’ for nearly a month?”

“Well, it takes some explanation of Wadata itself.” She said. “They have a form of monarchy-“

“That’s kings and queens, right?” Ginny asked.

“Yes, and Akosi is-“ Hermione started to explain.

“A princess?” Hera asked, the thought suddenly occurring to her.

“No, and stop interrupting me.” Hermione said. “She’s in training to join their royal guard, the Jaja Cahaya.”

“So, I guess she’d be a great competitor in the tournament.” Said Nora. “But why the date checking?”

“The Jaja Cahaya started off as a religious order, and each and every member is a werelioness.” Hermione said. “Like we’re wolves, they’re lions, but they change only once a year, during the weeks surrounding the summer solstice, when the days are longest.”

“Oh, cool.” Hera said.

“She did have to get permission to tell me this, and permission for you too, so don’t go spreading the information around.” Hermione said. “We’re basically only allowed to know because we’re werewolves.”

“They probably have enough food to keep in control,” Nora said. “It must be pretty easy when you’re a royal guard.”

“Yeah, but she’ll have to go home in June for a bit, regardless of when the third task is.” Hermione said. “She says that she’s learning how to change when she wants, but isn’t very good at it; and only in the daytime. So, she can’t come hunting with us.”

“Aww.” Ginny said, looking genuinely disappointed. “So, what about that other girl?”

“Oh, her…” Hermione said. “Well, like he-who-must-not-be-named said at the table, she’s probably a Veela.”

It was Nora’s turn to blush.

“I didn’t hear that at the table…” She said. “That makes sense.”

“So, what’s a Veela?” Hera asked.

“They’re… well according to the ministry classification they’re semi-human magical beings known for incredible beauty, fire manipulation, and…” She paused for a second. “Well, the ministry says they have an allure that men find irresistible.”

“But I’m not a man?” Hera asked. “So why was I affected?”

“How do I put this…” Hermione asked the air. “Hera, do you like girls?”

“Well, yeah.” Hera said. “You’re all my friends, and you’re all girls.”

“No, what I mean is do you like-like girls?” Hermione asked. “Would you want to kiss a girl? Like those parades you sometimes see on the telly.”

“Well, yeah… I think I would like to kiss a girl.” Hera blinked “Wait… what? like the gay lesbian parades?”

“Yes, those ones.”

Something connected in Hera’s mind.

“Wait, that’s what gay means?” She said. She thought back to the flashes she had caught of news coverage before her uncle grumbled and switched it off. “Is… does that mean that all those women who’re gay all kiss other women?”

“Yes.” Hermione said, almost incredulously. “What did you think it meant?”

“I just thought they liked dressing nice.” Hera said. “And gay women kissed gay men.”

“No, Hera, gay women do not kiss gay men.” Hermione said, slightly annoyed at having to explain this simple concept. “Or they might for a joke or something, but they’d much prefer to kiss other women.”

“Hera.” Ginny put her hand on her shoulder. “You’re kinda weird sometimes, do you know that?”

“I guess so.” Hera said sheepishly. “So that’s what that means. Huh. I like-like girls, so I guess I’m gay.”

“Thanks for trusting us with this, Hera.” Hermione said. She pulled her into a hug. “Even if you weren’t really sure what it meant.”

“But for the record, you shouldn’t really spread that information around in the wizarding world either.” Nora said. “From what I’ve seen and experienced, wizarding Britain is worse than muggle Britain with stuff like this.”

“I think it’s pretty obvious, though.” Ginny said, hugging Hera on the other side and mussing her hair. “Look how short you cut this stuff.”

“My hair?” Hera asked. “I don’t get haircuts, it’s just always that short.”

“Well, that’s interesting.” Hermione said. “Maybe it’s some sort of residual instinctive magic.”

“Maybe. There was this one time my aunt tried to make me wear a wig to school, it vanished overnight.” Hera said. “But what do you mean it’s obvious because of my hair?”

“It’s a thing that lesbians do, I think.” Hermione said. “Something about rejecting beauty standards.”

“Wait, I know what ‘gay woman’ means now, but what’s ‘Lesbian’?”

“It’s a synonym, it means the same thing.”

“So, all lesbians have short hair.” Hera said. “Gotcha.”

“Incorrect.” Ginny said. “I have long hair, and I’m- I’m gay.”

Hera wasn’t sure exactly what to say to that, she tried to think back to when she had said she was gay, but everything seemed to focus back in on the now. So she settled on pulling Ginny into a two-armed hug.

“Thanks Hera.” She said. “I don’t think I’d have had the courage to say so if we weren’t here already. Although I thought you’d know.”

“Oh! Of course, your valentine’s day card.” Hera realised.

“Aww. That’s sweet.” Nora said. “I guess if you two are going to say it, I want to too. I like boys and girls. People are going to have issues with me no matter who I date.”

“I think it’s pretty obvious, but we were all affected by that Veela girl.” Hermione said. “I’m not really sure at the moment, but I’m pretty sure I like both, as well.”

Hera and Ginny pulled them into their hug.

“A little rude of her to just be flaring out that aura in the middle of the hall like that.” Nora said, after they had broken apart.

“I’ve heard that it eventually loses effectiveness.” Hermione said. “Maybe she just forgot to restrain it?”

“Or maybe she was trying to psych out the competition?” Ginny said.

“We’re fourteen, surely she doesn’t think we’d be entering the tournament.” Hera said.

“Maybe we’re not, but she could convince us to support her over the Hogwarts champion.” Ginny said.

“I don’t know, it didn’t seem at all subtle.” Nora said. “We easily guessed what was going on. And that’s sure to put us on guard around her from now on.”

“Whatever it is, I’m just glad to have had this talk with you all tonight.” Hermione said. “And no matter what anyone else says, you’re all still my friends.”

“Me too,” Hera said. “and thanks for sorting out my confusion.”

“Bye.” Ginny said, smiling as she left for her dormitory.

“Well, I guess that’s all.” Nora said. “Good night, you two.”

With that, their talk ended and they began to prepare for bed. It was a little later she slipped into the arms of Morpheus. The Morpheus in her dream was rather different than how one might expect someone to describe Morpheus. Her silvery hair was fanned out across the pillow and her arms held Hera close, protectively. Hera could almost imagine the pillow beneath her slowly rising and falling, following breathing.

 

The next day passed and the school began its second feast in as many days. Hera heard various mutters of who from the older years had entered. Angelina Johnson had swaggered up to the breakfast table, having reached age seventeen. The Weasley twins, who had not, attempted to use an aging potion, and ended up with a pair of white beards for their trouble. Hermione had guessed it was because the age line that Dumbledore had placed measured age chronologically, not biologically.

Even with all the hype about the ‘eternal glory’ one could receive from the tournament, Hera estimated from the rumours that only about thirty students had actually entered their names for the tournament. Seventh years seemed especially disinclined to participate, as they had their final round of exams this year, the ones that could mean the difference between getting their dream jobs and getting whatever their parents could bribe them into.

The Durmstrang students had gotten up early to put all their names in, and the Beauxbatons had deposited theirs through the day.

Hera wasn’t as hungry that night, due to the previous day’s feast. They were joined at the Gryffindor table by Hermione’s friend Akosi. She had found out the date of the third task did indeed clash with the eighteen days surrounding the summer solstice, so she had chosen to not enter, but would be staying while she could to support the Beauxbatons champion, depending on who they might be.

The feast went on for a while, and Hera resisted the temptation to look around for the Veela girl, she had sat with her back to the Ravenclaw table for precisely this reason.

Finally, Dumbledore stood, vanished the desserts, and levitated the Goblet of Fire up to the middle of the great hall.

He said a few words about how he hoped that no matter who was chosen that their entire schools would come together to support them, introduced a man named Ludo Bagman, from the Ministry’s Department of Games and Sports; and another named Barty Crouch from the Department for International Magical Co-operation.

“He’s that guy that freed slash fired slash emotionally abused Dobby’s friend Winky, isn’t he?” Nora said.

“Yeah.” Hera said, idly wondering if this guy knew anything about muggle history. From the look of that toothbrush moustache and combover, probably not.

“He’s also my brother Percy’s boss.” Ginny said. “According to the twins he can’t even remember Percy’s name. Keeps calling him ‘Weatherby’.”

“How has he not been retired?” Akosi said.

“Crouch is one of those really connected old families.” Said Nora.

Their conversation was interrupted as the piece of paper with the first champion’s name was ejected from the goblet.

“The Champion for Durmstrang…” Dumbledore paused slightly for effect. “Viktor Krum.”

“Hey!” Ginny whispered. “He’s a Quidditch star. He’s on the Bulgarian Team, I had no idea he was so young.”

“He lost, though.” Akosi said. “Caught the Snitch when his team would lose while he did it.”

“My brother Charlie told me he wanted to end it on his terms.”

“Maybe, but he still gave up the win.” Akosi pointed out. “I was there and if the match stretched on Bulgaria could have gotten more points.”

“Do you know what they’re talking about, Hermione?” Hera asked sarcastically.

“No idea, Hera.” She replied as the second piece of parchment flew from the Goblet.

“The Champion for Beauxbatons is…” Dumbledore read out. “Fleur Delacour.”

The Veela girl stood from the Ravenclaw table and made her way to the door at the front of the hall.

“Hey, Akosi, what’s she like?” Hera asked. “Is she really a Veela?”

“Got hit by that aura, did you?” Akosi said. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell. She is one, and she’s quite nice, she even complimented my hair once.” Akosi patted her curls. “I think she was a little shocked by the new environment, or you four, and let some slip out, she was kinda jittery on the way back to the carriage.”

“The Hogwarts Champion is…” Dumbledore read. “Cedric Diggory!”

“Oh, hey.” Nora said. “Cedric’s nice. I actually heard him tell off someone that was calling me names last year. Professor Sprout is really proud of him too, I think she’s going to put up his name for Head Boy next year.”

“Now, we have our three Triwizard Champions!” Dumbledore said. “Now, I believe it is time… for…”

The Goblet of Fire had spat out another piece of paper.

She didn’t hear the name Dumbledore read out, but as the heads turned and the whispers began, it could only have been hers.

She sat there, frozen.

Dumbledore yelled out the name again.

She was nudged by someone beside her.

The noise around her seemed to dim.

She got mechanically to her feet, her body seemingly on autopilot, and walked up to Dumbledore, face unchanging. She finally reached him.

“Well, Miss Potter.” He said, his voice piercing the silence. The sound flooded back in. Her vision blurred as she ran in the direction he gestured. She almost knocked into the door, but twisted at the last minute to slam her shoulder against it.

Pain throbbed through her shoulder as the door closed itself behind her. She couldn’t see, and she finally realised she was crying. There was a fireplace in this room, that she could tell.

“Do they need us back in the hall?” Fleur asked.

“Hera?” She heard a young man say.

No, she couldn’t let people see her like this. She shakily walked over to the far side of the blurry fire, only to be stopped by a hand.

“Are you alright?” The deep voice asked. She shook her head, only to let out a sob.

“Hera, what happened out there?” The young man asked.

“No, no, no, didn’t, no.” She managed to hack out between sobs. Dark figures began to close in.

Out-

“No!” She screamed, she couldn’t change here. She forced the moonlight down.

The figures backed off. Her breathing was unsteady, coming in great wracking gasps.

“Miss.” Fleur said gently. “Would you like to sit down?” She nodded. “Can I guide you over to a chair?” She nodded again, and a hand gently took hold of her arm, pulling her. She let it guide her over to the chair that Fleur had been sitting in.

“I- I- didn’t-“ she said in between gasps.

“Hera, you need to calm down.” The young man said. “Try to slow your breathing.” She sobbed, and tried to hold off her gasps.

It began working, her breathing was slowing down.

Which is, of course, when Dumbledore walked in. He charged over to her chair.

“Hera, did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire?” He said, getting far too close to her. Her sobs quickened.

“Didn’t.” She managed to sneak in between sobs.

“Well of course she is lying.” Another voice said. This caused more sobs. Some more adults entered and began shouting…

Out.

“No!” She shouted.

An angry voice moved closer to her, followed by the deep voice.

Out.

She needed to get out.

The yelling continued.

OUT.

Ok.

She felt the change starting, she fell out of the chair.

A voice said something above her, a hand touched her back.

Her bones lengthened.

A voice said something and there was a pop.

Someone screamed, the crowd around her finally dissipated.

Fur grew and her face stretched.

Her clothes sloughed off and there was another pop.

She could smell meat.

That wasn’t what she needed, she needed out.

She leapt blindly over to the door. Only to be blasted back, splintering the chair she had once been sitting in. She righted herself, whining.

There was no way out that way. She blinked, her eyes clearing a little.

Her eyes drifted back to the platter of meat, up to the huddle of people near the door. She looked around the room, no other doors, she couldn’t get out.

She walked over to the platter and picked one up in her jaws. Chewing it up and swallowing. She ate more, eyes flicking up to the huddle near the door to see if it had dispersed. She couldn’t help but feel a little pleased with how they cowered before her, even as she casually ate. But she couldn’t get out, there was only one thing for it, she needed to change back.

She finished the meat and padded over to one of the chairs, she put her head against it and pushed it over to the wall. She did the same to the other remaining chair, creating a gap between them and the wall. She crept into the opening, took a deep breath.

Her change back was just as tiring as usual. She flopped onto the floor, naked, and began to crawl partway out, she waved her arm, then fainted.

 

## Year 4 Chapter 5

She returned to consciousness in the Hospital Wing.

“Back again, Hera?” Madam Pomfrey asked from beside her bed. She just groaned. “She’s awake, but I would ask that you not crowd her, just the heads of school to start off with.”

“Oh, you poor girl.” Madam Maxime said as she entered the curtains

“I hope you don’t mind, Hera, but I have explained your situation to the others that were in the trophy room.” Dumbledore said. “Now I must ask you…” He was considerably calmer sounding this time. “Did you put your name into the Goblet of Fire?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Did you ask an older student to do it for you?”

“No, I wouldn’t, I don’t want to be in this tournament.” She said.

“You shouldn’t have to be.” Madam Maxime said, glaring at Dumbledore.

“Don’t hide behind that merciful mask, Maxime.” The Durmstrang headmaster said. “You know just as well as I that your champion’s odds increase without-“

“Without competing against a twelve-year-old?” Madam Maxime interrupted him.

“I’m fourteen.” Hera groaned weakly. Her eyes drifted closed.

“No, Hera, wake up.” Dumbledore said. “We need to get to the bottom of this tonight.”

“Don’t want to be in the tournament.” She said, eyes cracking open.

“I’m afraid you have no choice.” The clipped voice of Barty Crouch said. “Your name coming out of the Goblet constitutes a binding magical contract. Non-competition will result in the loss of your magic.”

In Hera’s sleepy mind this didn’t seem like too big a deal. She could go and live in the forest, maybe with the Centaurs. Perhaps she wouldn’t be alone for long…

“Hera!” Dumbledore clapped his hands in front of her face. She screwed up her face at the noise. “You need to pay attention.”

“The first task will take place on the twenty-fourth of November, but you won’t know what you’re facing- what the task is until that day.” Crouch said.

“I didn’t enter…” She said.

“As we have explained, that is irrelevant.” Crouch said, just as the voice of Madam Pomfrey cut in.

“I said just the heads of school! All of you, out! You can tell her whatever she needs to hear tomorrow.” The adults shuffled out.

“I’m dreadfully sorry, Hera.” Madam Pomfrey said. “There are the other champions outside, would you like me to send them away too?” Hera had a flash of memory of the voices in the room off the hall, she focused on Fleur.

Oh. She had a crush. That definitely could have happened at a better time.

“No, I want to talk to them.” Hera said, and shuffled a bit in the bed to sit up.

Madam Pomfrey ducked out through the curtains, and was replaced by Cedric, Viktor, and Fleur.

“Hi, I’m sorry that I scared you back there.” Hera said.

“It’s alright, Hera.” Cedric said. “We’ve been talking, and we don’t believe you entered the tournament.”

“Thanks, Cedric.” She said.

“That is why we have agreed to help you where we can.” Viktor said. “I didn’t know what to think when you came into the trophy room like that and your Headmaster didn’t believe you hadn’t entered yourself.”

“Thanks, Mr Krum.”

“Call me Viktor.”

“Thanks, Viktor.”

Fleur looked at the two boys.

“Can I talk with Hera alone for a bit, please?” She asked. They shrugged and left the curtains.

Fleur turned back to Hera. Hera tried very hard not to blush.

“I’m sorry about what happened last night.” She said. “You deserved an explanation.”

“You’re a Veela, and you sensed something strange, you panicked and some of your allure got through for a few seconds.” Hera said.

“I- That’s exactly it.” Fleur said, almost smiling. “I’m sorry, that must have been terrible for you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Exposing yourself in front of your friends.” Fleur said. “I’m sorry if it led to any awkward situations.”

“Oh!” Hera realised, “No, it’s okay, we were all affected and we talked about it, and now we’re closer than ever.”

“Oh. Well, that’s some relief.”

“On some level I guess I always knew.”

“Yeah, same here.”

“You too?” Hera asked.

“Yeah, both men and women.” She said. “In some ways it’s easier because I’m a Veela, in others… less so.”

“Thanks for trying to calm me down in there.” Hera said.

“My little sister, Gabrielle, is very similar.” She said. “I know what to do when she is upset.” Fleur turned to the curtain, “I’ll let you get to sleep, you’ve got a big task ahead of you.”

“Thanks…” Hera said as she fell back into bed.

 

Whispers followed her from the moment she left the hospital wing the next morning. Hera decided to go directly to the kitchens instead of going back to the great hall for breakfast. As she was eating breakfast her mind started turning over. She hadn’t entered herself into the tournament, but her name came out of the Goblet, so someone must have done it. But who? And why? If they wanted her hurt there were probably much easier ways to do it.

She was just leaving, thanking the house elves as she went, when Ginny, Hermione and Nora opened the portrait to the kitchens.

“Hera, we’ve been looking for you everywhere.” Said Nora, pulling her into a hug. Hera hugged back.

“Sorry, I just needed to be alone for a bit.” She said. “How did you find me anyway?”

“The Marauder’s Map.” Ginny said. “C’mon, let’s find somewhere more private to talk.”

They found their way to an empty classroom.

“Hera, you didn’t enter, did you?” Hermione said, sitting down in the circle with the rest of them.

“No, I didn’t.”

“There’s no way, you looked so shocked when Dumbledore read out your name.” Nora said.

“Hera, if it’s not too much, would you like to tell us about what happened in the trophy room?” Hermione said.

“I- maybe, I don’t really remember much.” Hera said. “I was crying and panicked at the time.”

“What do you remember?”

“I got in there, Cedric, Viktor, and Fleur were in there.” She said.

“First names basis with Viktor Krum?” Ginny said, amused.

“He said it was ok later in the hospital wing.” Hera said. “So, I’m panicking and they manage to calm me down a little, then Dumbledore comes in and yells at me.”

“Yeesh, that’s not good.” Ginny said.

“Then… everyone was yelling, and I…” Hera trailed off, a little ashamed. “I needed to get away.”

“So, you changed?” Ginny said.

“Yes.” Hera said, looking away. Ginny pulled her into a hug. “Everyone’s alright, and Dumbledore summoned some meat, so I ate that and changed back. Then I woke up in the hospital wing.”

“Manual changing is really tiring, ok.” Nora noted.

“So, Madam Maxime wanted me to be excused.” Hera said. “But Mr Crouch said I have to compete or I’ll lose my magic.”

“Olympe is nice.” Nora said. The three of them turned to look at her. She added as an explanation. “She did my ritual last year. We met a little while I was conscious.”

“Akosi did say she was arithmancy teacher before she became headmistress.” Hermione said. “She must be really good to do human transmutation.”

“Anyway, I wasn’t really listening because I was tired, but the first task is a secret, and it’ll be in late November, the twenty fourth.” Hera said. “Then the other three came in to talk with me. They say they want to help me survive the tournament.”

“I should hope so.” Hermione said.

“And Fleur apologised for letting out that aura that made us all…” Hera paused, trying to think of the word.

“Infatuated.” Hermione supplied.

“Infatuated.” Hera repeated. “She sensed we were werewolves and it was like an instinctual defence.”

“Well, it’s still good she apologised.” Said Nora.

Ginny, still hugging Hera, adjusted her arm so she could play with the spiky hair on the back of her neck.

“How is everyone else taking it?” Hera asked.

“Most of Gryffindor is happy that someone in their house is a champion.” Ginny said. “Fred and George want to know how you did it, but I managed to persuade them you didn’t.”

“The rest of the school, less well.” Nora said. “The Hufflepuffs don’t like it, they think you’re taking the glory away from Cedric, but he had a talk with them this morning about it and they’ve chilled down a little.”

“Ravenclaw is mostly split, some support you, more are along the lines of Hufflepuff,” Hermione said. “And the rest just don’t care about the tournament.”

“A few older Slytherins are pointing out how surprised you were, that you clearly didn’t plan this.” Nora said. “But the rest are against you, not because they like Cedric or anything though.”

“Well, this sucks.” Hera said. “I should probably write to Sirius about this too.”

 

The days until the next full moon, where she could run free, dragged by slower than ever. It eventually arrived. Despite the fact that she couldn’t manually change after sundown, Akosi accompanied them on the first night.

“Truthfully, I’ve never actually seen a real werewolf up close before.” She said, stroking Nora’s fur as she ate their post-change meal. “You’re all very nice, loads healthier than those illustrations we have at Beauxbatons.”

Hermione barked and ate a chunk of meat.

“But that’s your hypothesis, isn’t it?” She said. “I supposed something similar could happen to a werelion, but we’re pretty well fed.”

Ginny caught a scent on the air.

“You smell something?” Akosi asked. Ginny nodded, and barked to the rest of them. They swallowed the last of their meal and prepared for the hunt. “Good luck, I’ll go back to the carriage while you’re gone.”

 

The next day, Hera was taken out of potions class by a nervous third year. Apparently, she had to attend some sort of ceremony for the tournament.

She was surprised to see that Mr Ollivander was there with the other judges. She had bought her wand from him three years ago.

“Ah, Hera.” Dumbledore said. “Now that we’re all here, we can begin the Weighing of the Wands. Mr Ollivander here is going to check over your wands, to see if they are all in order.”

Viktor offered his wand to Ollivander.

“A Gregorovich creation if I’m not mistaken.” He said while examining the wand. “Hornbeam and Dragon Heartstring.” He tested it then returned it to Viktor.

“Miss Delacour.” Ollivander took her offered wand. “Rosewood and… Veela hair, interesting, I tend not to work with Veela hair, makes for temperamental wands.”

Fleur’s smile was rather fixed as she accepted her wand back from Ollivander.

“Mr Diggory, one of mine if I’m not mistaken.” Ollivander examined the wand. “Ash and unicorn hair. One of my more detailed designs.”

“And Miss Potter, I remember your wand quite clearly.” Ollivander accepted hers. “English oak and unicorn hair, you always were a strange match for it.”

Hera snatched it back as soon as she could.

“Thus, concludes the weighing of the wands,” Dumbledore said. “But while we have you convened like this, the Daily Prophet has requested some photographs.”

The group photographs didn’t take long, and soon Hera was on her way down to dinner. In the corridor outside the charm’s classroom, she ran into someone.

“Oops, Sorry Hera.” Said Susan Bones. She picked up the book she was carrying.

“That’s okay.” Hera said. Susan grimaced.

“Look, I’m really sorry how the rest of my house has been acting towards you,” She said.

“It hasn’t been that bad.” Hera said, trying to brush her off.

“It’s alright, you don’t need to pretend.” Susan said. “When Cedric explained it, it all made sense, from what I’ve seen of you, you wouldn’t enter yourself.”

“What did he say?” Hera said, a sudden, horrible thought occurring to her.

“Whoa, he just said you were upset, and really didn’t want to be in the tournament.” Susan said, raising her arms reflexively and dropping her book again.

“Sorry; it’s been bad, yeah.” Hera said. Stopping to let Susan grab her book.

“Sometimes I just wish we had a normal year here.” Susan said, and Hera snorted with laughter.

“You’re telling me.” Hera said.

“Hah, yeah, I suppose that does seem a bit rich.” Susan said, tucking her hair behind her ear “But for what it’s worth, good luck.”

“Thanks Susan.” Hera said as they separated to go towards their house tables.

 

A few days later Sirius’ reply to Hera’s letter about the Triwizard tournament came through at breakfast.

“Sirius says he wants to meet us on today’s Hogsmeade visit” She said. “and Remus is gonna be there too. He wants to give me an update on the situation with him.”

So, about an hour later they made their way down to the village. Ginny alongside them this time, unlike last year when she had to sneak out via secret passage.

When they entered the pub, Sirius waved them over from one of the more private booths. He was looking much better than when he had been on the run.

“How’re you doing, Hera?” He asked once they were all seated.

“I- not great, Sirius.” She said. “Like what I said in the letter.”

“Yeah, I’m not going to sugar-coat it,” He said. “It doesn’t look good, but that’s not all.”

“There’s more?” She asked, sinking lower into her seat.

“Crouch.” Sirius said. “You need to watch out for him, he was the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement during the late seventies, early eighties. He was the one that sentenced me to Azkaban without a trial.”

“He did what?” Hermione gasped.

“Me and a bunch of other ‘death eaters’,” He made finger quotes around the name, “Were just dumped there after the war was over; well, I say war but there wasn’t much fighting, after Voldemort vanished. I’m not sure who else was innocent, who actually was under the Imperius.”

“But what about people like Lucius Malfoy?” Ginny asked indignantly.

“You mean upstanding benefactor of the Ministry Lucius Malfoy?” Sirius said derisively. “He didn’t need a trial to get off, neither did a bunch of others; the ministry just let them walk out, then met up with them in a couple of days at their latest fundraiser.”

“Those who the ministry was uninterested in saving got sent to Azkaban to prevent negative press.” Lupin said. “And then there was Crouch’s son.”

“Barty Crouch Junior.” Nora said. “He was in the group of death eaters who… you know.” It took a few seconds for Hera to realise, Crouch Jr was one of the ones who had tortured her parents.

“I saw them brought in.” Sirius said.

“Wait, you can’t mean Crouch sentenced his own son to Azkaban?” Ginny said, disbelievingly.

“He must have.” Sirius said. “I remember the day that they brought him in, my cousin Bellatrix was there too; first time I had seen her in ages. She was still yelling when I escaped, they usually go quiet after a week or so.”

“That’s horrible.” Hera said.

“Crouch’s fatherly affection only extended to him bringing his wife to visit.” Sirius said. “She was looking pretty terrible at the time too.”

They sat there for a moment, silent.

“And then there’s Karkaroff.” Remus prompted.

“Right, Karkaroff.” Sirius said. “He was a death eater.”

“And they’re letting him run a school?” Hermione said, shocked.

“He was released in exchange for names.” Remus said. “He put as many death eaters into Azkaban as a semi-competent Auror.”

“Yeah, so he’ll probably be wanting some way back in Voldemort’s favour if he ever does come back.” Sirius said. “Offing you via the tournament might be a way.”

“But we’re not sure on that just yet.” Remus said, pointedly.

“So, watch out for Crouch and Karkaroff.” Hera said.

“Apart from that, I have no idea.” Sirius said, taking a swig of his drink.

“How are you going with spreading the word, Remus?” Nora asked. Remus smiled.

“Really good, especially since with Padfoot’s help we can afford the meat.” He said. “We had some who fully changed this moon just gone.”

“That’s great!” Hera said.

“They’re still pretty unhealthy, but those who know are spreading the word.” He said. “It was a bit of a stretch convincing people that it was true, but I’m hoping we’ll be able to go to the ministry within a year.”

“Absolutely fantastic.” Hera said.

“There is a little snag, but nothing I can’t handle in time.” Remus said, slightly softer.

“Less good.” She said. “Anything I can do to help?”

“No, it’s lots of politicking around different werewolf communities.” He said.

“How’re you going Hera?” Hagrid had appeared at their booth.

“Not great, Hagrid.” She said. “You probably heard what happened from Dumbledore, I guess?”

“Yeah, I heard about that.” He said. “Hello Professor Lupin… and Mr Black.”

“Hagrid, how are you?” Sirius said, evidently choosing to ignore the pause before his greeting.

“It’s just Remus now, Hagrid.”

“Of course, Remus.” Hagrid said. He leaned down to whisper in Hera’s ear. “Come meet me at my house tonight at ten, bring your cloak.”

Hagrid straightened up.

“Nice seeing you all.” He said. “Me and Professor Moody are off to look at some books that Aberforth up at the Hog’s Head just got in.” He strode out of the pub.

“Well that was weird.” Hera whispered to the rest of them. “He wants me to meet him at his house at ten.”

“That is weird.” Sirius said. “So, about the first task. It’s in a couple of days, right?”

“Yeah, and I don’t know what it is because its supposed to be about acting under pressure.” Hera said.

“We looked up some of the previous tasks,” Hermione said. “And they’re generally pretty simple.” Oddly enough, this didn’t comfort Hera much.


	6. Year 4 Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of 3 of Year 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for Gay

## Year 4 Chapter 6

When Hera got to Hagrid’s house that night, she was rather annoyed when someone else turned up a few minutes later.

Hera felt like a third wheel as Hagrid led Madam Maxime and her under her cloak into the forest.

It was a fairly short walk, but as the spurts of fire came into view, she spent every second dreading what she knew had to be up ahead.

Before long she spotted Charlie Weasley, and her worst fears were confirmed.

Dragons were involved in the first task.

“Hey, Hagrid!” Charlie said.

“What’cha got here, Charlie?”

Charlie went on to explain the various breeds they had brought for the task, but Hera hadn’t heard much. She had turned and was walking robotically back up to the school.

 

It occurred to her the next morning that Fleur might know about the dragons. So, did Viktor, from the angry eastern European accent tangled in a thicket near the dragons that Hera heard on her way back.

So that left Cedric the only one who didn’t know.

“But how am going to tell him?” She asked her friends at breakfast the next morning.

“Just walk up to him and tell him.” Ginny said.

“That might seem suspicious though.” Hera said. She turned and looked over to Cedric at the Hufflepuff table. He was talking with some friends. She turned back, but as she was doing so, she couldn’t help but notice the long brown plait a few students down from him. She turned back. “Susan.”

“Susan?” Asked Nora, “What about her?”

“She’s been coming up and talking to me a bit this year and she believes me about the Goblet, I could get her to tell Cedric where I wanted to meet him.” She said. “It wouldn’t be suspicious if she talked to him.”

“I think you’re overcomplicating this, Hera.” Hermione said.

“Sure, but what about when one of Cedric’s friends thinks I’m trying to mess with him?”

“No, that’s paranoia.”

“That’s what I’m saying.”

After that, Hermione decided to simply roll her eyes and drop it.

 

Hera caught up to Susan after Herbology that morning.

“Hey, Susan.” She said, pulling into step beside the Hufflepuff.

“Hi, Hera.” Susan said. “How are you going with preparing for the first task?”

“Not great, but I needed to talk to you about something.” She said.

“Me?” Susan said, eyebrows raised. “Sure, what can I do to help?”

“I need you to tell Cedric I want to meet up with him.”

“Oh, okay.” She said. “Sure, I can do that.”

“Thanks,” Hera said, and told her the time and location for Cedric to meet her.

 

Hera waited outside a disused classroom on the fifth floor. It was times like this she almost wished she had a watch. Surely it must be five o’clock now?

What if Cedric decided not to come? Or some of his friends talked him out of it? Did Susan not get a chance to pass on the message?

Hera groaned. No, she had to think more positively than that, maybe he just got delayed. Maybe it wasn’t five o’clock yet.

She waited a few more minutes, looking down each end of the corridor.

“Where are you?” she muttered.

“Where’s who?” Said a voice from behind her.

She turned, it was Cedric, he was finally here. Fleur and Viktor were with him.

“Cedric!” She said.

“Sorry I’m late, I figured that you wanted to speak about the tournament.” He said. “And these two would be able to help as well.”

“Oh, okay, sure.” She said, and went into the classroom. They followed her, and she waited until the door was closed to speak. “Dragons.”

“What?” Fleur asked.

“Dragons are the first task, they’ve got one for each of us.” Hera said. She pointed to Viktor and Fleur. “I thought you two already knew. Your heads of school saw them.”

“This is news to me.” Fleur said.

“Headmaster Karkaroff hasn’t told me anything.” Viktor said.

“Well, okay, it’s a good thing Cedric brought you along then.” Hera said. “So now we’re all on equal footing.”

“Thank you.” Viktor said. “Do you have any idea what you are going to do for it?”

“No.” Hera said. “All I know with dragons is that you should feed newborns a bucket of brandy and chicken blood every half hour.”

“Huh.” Cedric said. “Well that doesn’t really help with a full grown one. I know that their hides are magic resistant, breathe fire, most can fly…” He trailed off listing facts.

“That rules out a lot of strategies.” Fleur said. “I think the best way would be some sort of distraction, they aren’t going to ask us to kill it, that takes whole teams of fully-grown wizards.”

“I think I heard one of the Handlers said that they were nesting mothers.” Hera supplied.

Fleur hissed.

“Meaning they’re going to be really aggressive.” She said. “Even the three of us would be killed without the chance to prepare, let alone you, Hera, I have no idea what the organisers are thinking.”

“The dragon’s weakest point is where the scales give way to soft tissue.” Viktor said. “The eyes, inside the mouth, and… er… other parts.”

“So, the eyes are our best bet.” Cedric said.

“Maybe for you cowards.” Fleur said. “Joking.” She clarified.

“Possibly the Conjunctivitis curse?” Viktor suggested.

“What does that do?” Hera asked.

“Well, you know when you just wake up and you have little bits in the corner of your eye?” Cedric said. “Well, that but loads. It sticks the eyelids together.”

“That would just make the dragon angrier.” Fleur pointed out. “The best way would either to make yourself more mobile, or make the dragon less prone to attacking, with a distraction or some calming effect.” She smirked. “I think I know what I can do.”

“Viktor, you play Quidditch, right?” Hera asked.

“Yes,” He said tentatively.

“So, you can fly, right?” She said, “Why not use your broom?”

“That’s an idea.” He said. “I could use a summoning charm if I’m not allowed to bring it into the arena.”

“I’m pretty good at transfiguration, I could make some sort of animal to distract it.” Cedric said.

“Just make sure it’s noisy enough to distract it for enough time.” Fleur said. She turned to Hera. “So, just your plan to figure out.”

 

“So, you remember the charm?” Hermione asked Hera outside the champions tent a few days later.

“Yes, Hermione.” Hera said. “I just hope it works.”

“Do you remember which one to use for which dragon?” Nora said. A few days earlier Viktor had snuck into the forest following Hera’s directions and taken a look at the variety of dragons. Nora had helped Hera with some research to decide how to alter the original spell depending on the dragon. Eventually they had found a solution that should work for each dragon.

“I do, Nora.” Hera said.

“Good luck.” Ginny said, and pulled her into a hug.

“Thank you, all of you.” Hera said, and entered the tent, alone.

The other three champions were there already. They looked up at her grimly. Fleur got up and walked over to her.

“How’re you feeling?” she asked softly.

“Like I want to run off and live in the forest.” Hera said.

“That’s fair.” She said, and gave her a small hug. This didn’t exactly calm her down, but now the butterflies in her stomach weren’t all there from the dragon.

“Here we all are!” Ludo Bagman walked into the tent holding a small bag. “We’re almost ready, we just need to tell you why we’re here.”

The four champions converged into a circle with Bagman.

“In this bag are miniature versions of the creatures you will be facing.” He said. “And they’re numbered to show which order you’ll be in. So, Ladies first.” He held the bag out to Fleur.

She reached into the bag and pulled out a green dragon. The scales on it’s side were patterned with lighter scales in the shape of two capital ‘I’s.

“Miss Delacour will be facing the Welsh Green.” Bagman said. “And you’ll be going second. I think it’s fairly obvious, but you will all be facing a different species of dragon. Miss Potter.” He held the bag out to her, not noticing the other three champions staring at him in anger.

Hera reached into the bag and drew out a dragon. The brown and grey, combined with the spikes along its spine and tail told her this was the Hungarian Horntail. The scales on it were patterned to show an I then a V.

“The Hungarian Horntail!” Bagman said. “And you’ll be the grand finale.” He held out the bag to Cedric. He drew out the powder blue scaled miniature Swedish Short Snout, it had a single capital I on it. Bagman offered Krum the sack, and he withdrew a long, red dragon that shimmered in the light. A Chinese Fireball, with three capital ‘I’s emblazoned on it.

“Now we have our order, I’m going to tell you the goal.” Bagman said. “You must retrieve the Golden Egg. It should be fairly easy to spot among the others.”

The four of them looked blankly at him.

“I need to go return to the judges’ area.” Bagman said. “Cedric, you best be ready to go soon.”

 

The other champions filed out as they were called, a cheer going up when they presumably got the egg a signal to the next champion to get ready. A great cheer went up at the very start of Viktor’s round as he summoned his broom. The crowd seemed very excited that he had gotten a chance to show off his flying skills.

But then it was Hera’s turn. She was called out into the rocky arena.

The dragon was nowhere to be seen at first, but Hera knew she had to act fast to avoid it getting her scent. The rocks would help, they wouldn’t absorb as much smell as a grassy or earthen arena. She drew her wand and ducked behind a rock.

“ _Fumos Abiete Maxima_.” She cast, and smoke began to quickly expel from the end of her wand. Heavier than air, it stayed close to the ground, creeping alone the various rocky paths through the arena. Hera removed a cloth handkerchief from her pocket, during her practice she had noticed the smell of this variation got a little much for her.

She kept low among the smoke, trying to breathe through her mouth as the heavy scent of pine trees threatened to invade her nostrils, as she made her way over to another rock. She glimpsed the dragon over a small ridge, it was looking around in confusion.

The smoke was becoming a not insignificant presence by now, it was about up to her ankles. She kept the wand low too, lest the dragon see where the pleasant smelling smoke was coming from. According to her research with Nora, Hungarian Horntails lived mostly in the alpine regions, throughout which pine trees dominated the flora.

If she had smoke to obscure her presence, a powerful odour to mask her scent, and a familiar smell for the dragon to calm it slightly, then she might be able to sneak around and do what she needed to do; in this case, grabbing the egg.

She kept to the lower areas where she would be obscured. The smoke was up to waist level now, and Hera felt a little drained from keeping the spell going so long.

The egg clutch sat on top of a small hill directly underneath the dragon. Luckily it was standing up and looking around, not roosting.

Hera made her way around to the left side of the hill, she was looking up at the dragon now. There was a small ramp from her lower area up to the foot of the dragon’s hill, but that would take her above the smoke. Not to mention that the chains that held the dragon in place were draped across it, and stepping over them would surely attract attention.

There was no way she could cut the chains, they were enchanted to be nigh unbreakable, especially by dragons.

Hera grimaced, she would hate to be chained up like that. That would be worse than the Shrieking Shack.

No, this wasn’t the time to think of things like that.

Nevertheless…

She tried refocussing on her boggart solution that she had used in her previous year’s exam. That might help. She had managed to turn the boggart into Dumbledore advocating for the shack to be ground down to make toilet paper. Right after the misty swamp with the Hinkypunk, a little smoky creature that lured people into the swamp with a lantern.

That was it!

She crept back a few metres and cancelled her smoke spell, stopping it from flowing from her wand.

“ _Lecarnum Inflamore_.” She cast, and a little blue flame appeared, flickering in the smoke. She reactivated the smoke spell and the scented fog flowed from her wand again.

Hera quickly scurried back over to the bottom of the ramp, aiming the flow of the mist away from the small flame.

It took a few seconds, but from the flow created by her wand smoke was ushered away from masking the small flame’s presence.

The dragon noticed immediately, craning its neck towards the blue fire.

This was Hera’s chance.

She deactivated the smoke spell and began to creep up the small ramp. She stepped over the chain, looking up and down in quick succession to keep an eye on the dragon and watch her footing.

The dragon’s neck was further from the eggs than she was, as long as it didn’t look back, she could get up the hill fine.

She turned, looking up at the dragon’s big legs, she glanced down to the nest, there was the golden egg.

In her peripheral vision she noticed the dragon tilt its head, examining the flame. Hera made her way up the hill. Every crunch of gravel felt thunderous to her.

Suddenly, the dragon reared up, beating its wings.

The smoke flew every which way, the thick layer of fog not amounting to much when spread across the rest of the air. Hera fell backwards, the wind buffeting her.

Then the dragon stared down at her.

Frozen with fear, she just lay there where she had fallen.

The dragon made a peculiar motion. Like it was about to cough up a hairball.

Then Hera realised, it wasn’t going to be a hairball. She tucked her arms in and rolled to her right as fast as she could.

The fire splashed out across the platform where she had just been lying. Luckily, she had not been on the platform. Unluckily, she had fallen off it, garnering many scrapes on her way down.

She fell into the small layer of smoke that was forming again on the arena floor. Hera lay there for a moment, assessing her options.

She could try the smoke again, although now the dragon was alerted to her presence. She had heard it takes a while for dragons to be ready to breathe fire again after they did, so she could try to make a run for it. But the dragon had other weapons.

She couldn’t change, it was daytime. Also, she didn’t want that secret getting out just yet; Well, more out.

She looked up, the highest layer of smoke that the dragon kicked up was descending now, collecting more on its way.

That’s it.

For a few seconds it will be below the dragon’s eyeline, but above it’s clutch.

Hera scampered on all fours over to the start of the ramp, handkerchief long forgotten.

At the rate the smoke was descending she had about five seconds until she could go for it.

5.

She looked over her scrapes, nothing serious.

4.

The dragon let out a little puff of smoke that only added to the descending veil.

3.

Hera swallowed.

2.

The dragon seemed to noticed the oncoming fog, and tilted its head curiously.

1.

Hera ran up the ramp just as the dragon’s head passed into the cloud of smoke. She twisted on her heel and ran up the hill.

She ducked to avoid the dragon’s sensitive belly and finally reached the nest.

Her hands closed around the egg, and she continued running, sliding down the hill at the back of the nest. She went off the edge into the lower section of the arena, landing on her feet. She ducked backwards into the shadow of the rock under the nest.

A whistle sounded, and dragon handlers emerged into the arena.

Charlie Weasley snuck over to her. He gestured for her to follow him, and he led her over to a secret passage in the rock. He opened it with a tap of his wand as the other handlers began to subdue the dragon.

She only let out her breath once they were through the passage and into the medical tent.

“That was absolutely incredible, Hera.” Charlie said.

“Thanks, Charlie.” She said. She looked around, then walked over to an unoccupied bed, and fell into it.

 

## Year 4 Chapter 7

She awoke to Madam Pomfrey attending to some of her larger cuts. There was a large frown on her face.

“Damn tournament.” She muttered, “I don’t know what they’re thinking.”

“You’re telling me.” Hera croaked weakly.

“Hera!” Cedric’s voice said. “You were fantastic!” She opened her eyes to see the other champion standing there with his shirt off, a large amount of orange paste covering his shoulder.

Madam Pomfrey stood up.

“That should be all you need for now, dear.” She said. “That natural regeneration is a godsend for you.”

“Thanks, Madam Pomfrey.” She said, sitting up and swinging her legs over to the side of the cot.

“Cedric, get back to your cubicle, I need to dress that burn.” She ordered.

Hera slowly managed to stand up and move over into the centre of the tent, Fleur seemed relatively unharmed and was sitting at a table in the middle of the room, while Viktor was nursing a deep gash in his shoulder.

Bagman entered the tent.

“Well done, all of you. The judges, minus me, are just doing some deliberations on your scores.” He said, “How is mister Diggory?”

“He should heal fine.” Madam Pomfrey said as Cedric emerged with a heavy bandage from his cubicle. He pulled a shirt over his head.

“Awww.” Fleur said, overembellishing her disappointment at not seeing Cedric’s torso anymore.

“Alright then, if you’ll just follow me to the box.” Bagman said, and lead them out into a small room just before another that opened onto the stands. “When I announce your name for the scoring walk out and wave a little.”

Then he ran off to the judge’s booth.

Hera leaned against the wall. The scent of pine trees was still strong throughout the arena. Now that it had dispersed in the air it wasn’t that bad.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Bagman’s magically amplified voice said from the other side of the stands. “The judges are ready to announce their point totals.”

A cheer went up from the crowd.

“First, Cedric Diggory.” Bagman said, and Cedric walked out into the box, waving at the crowd. “Who displayed prodigious skill at inanimate to animate transfiguration.”

The judges, ordered from right to left with Crouch, Maxime, Bagman, Dumbledore, and Karkaroff, held up their wants. Ribbons shot out of them, one after another. The ribbons curled into numbers that were visible even from Hera’s position.

8, 7, 8, 8, 7. Maxime and Karkaroff being the low scorers.

“Cedric Diggory has earned a total of thirty-eight points!” Bagman said. He waited for the cheers to subside before continuing. “Fleur Delacour. Who used an animal trancing spell to great effect.”

7,8,9,7,7.

“Fleur Delacour earns a total of thirty-eight points, too!” he said. The smaller round of applause settled slowly. “Now, the one and only Viktor Krum!” The cheer went out before the judges announced their points this time. The ribbons spun in mid-air. “For some truly excellent flying.”

8,8,9,8,10. Karkaroff scoring his own student highest.

“Viktor Krum allots himself forty-three points!” Bagman said, over the heavy applause. He had to wait nearly ten seconds for the Durmstrang students to quiet down. “Now, Miss Hera Potter, our youngest competitor. Who displayed great use of a modified smokescreen charm, including prolonged use.”

9,8,10,9,6.

“Miss Potter gets forty-two points!” He shouted, “Putting her in second place behind Mr Krum.” There was a moderate sized amount of applause for her, but that was more than she was expecting.

“Thank you, everyone, for attending this first task of the Triwizard Tournament.” Bagman said, and people began standing up in the crowd. “The next task will take place on the twenty-fourth of February at nine thirty AM.” He ducked out of the box. The crowds began to move towards the exit.

“Thanks, everyone.” Hera said tiredly. “I would not have made it through if it wasn’t for your help.”

“As long as you don’t end up winning, I’m glad to help.” Joked Cedric as they started walking back to the medical tent.

Bagman met them there.

“Now, there’s something else you need to know, as champions.” He said. “This next task to test your problem-solving skills, so we have given you a clue to what the next task will be in your egg. They’re hinged, see; but I recommend you open them somewhere private.”

With that, he departed, eventually the rest of them followed through the tent flaps.

Hera trudged her way up to the great hall for dinner, mentally exhausted.

A cheer went up from the rest of the Gryffindor table as she entered the hall. She sat down next to Nora, across from Ginny and Hermione. They offered congratulations, but soon saw that she wasn’t in the mood.

“Hera, party in the common room later.” One of the Weasley twins said.

That cinched it.

“I’m going out for the night.” She said.

“Out?” Nora asked, “But you’re dead tired.”

“I don’t want to go back to the common room tonight.” She said. “It’ll be all noisy, and it would be rude if I showed up and just went to bed.”

“What are you-? Oh.” Hermione said, realising what she meant.

“Yeah, I just need to get away for a bit.” Hera said. “You can come with me if you want to, but its fine if you don’t.”

“I- maybe another time.” Hermione said.

“No, sorry Hera.” Nora said.

“Sure, I’ll go with you.” Ginny said, and took a bite out of a baked potato.

“Thanks, Gin.” Hera said. “I’m going to go down to the kitchens after this.”

 

A half hour later, Hera and Ginny were headed out to the stone circle outside of the full moon.

“Are you sure about this?” Ginny asked.

“Yeah.” Hera said. She huffed, adjusting the canvas bag of meat the elves in the kitchens had given her.

“How do you change purposefully again?” Ginny asked.

“Well, it’s difficult to describe, but the Wolf told me it was all about feeling the moonlight within yourself.” Hera said. “That thing that you can feel when you’re under the full moon; and pulling it up to the forefront of yourself.”

“Wait, who’s the Wolf?” Ginny asked.

“Oh, yeah.” Hera realised she hadn’t actually told anyone about it. “In your first year, when Hagrid was arrested, he sent us into the Acromantula nest, I got bitten a bit on my way out and had this dream.”

“And this Wolf was in the dream?”

“Yeah, like us but even bigger, black as midnight, with big white eyes.” Hera described. “She was incredible.”

“How do you know it was a she?” Ginny asked.

“Huh, I don’t know, I never thought about it.” Hera said. “Instinct I guess.”

Hera poured out the meat onto the lawn around the circle, and threw the bag next to one of the stones.

“Here,” she said, and sat down cross-legged. “I’ll help you.”

Ginny sat down opposite her.

“Just close your eyes.” Hera said, closing her own. “and feel that part of you that is like moonlight.”

There was silence for a few seconds.

“How’re you going?” Hera asked.

“I think I feel something.” Ginny said. “It feels all glowy.”

“That’s it.” She said. “Now focus on drawing it up, on feeling it.”

“I- I think I got it.”

Hera opened her eyes, Ginny’s eyes, already changing, looked back at her. She smiled and began to change too.

They snapped up the meat, hungry from the change.

Hera looked skywards to the waxing moon. From deep in her throat it drew a howl. The air was still. She heard the wolves of the forest echo her.

Hera turned back to Ginny, and jerked her head for her to follow. She ran down to the forest and between the trees.

The forest blurred past her as she ran aimlessly. The wind drowning out the noises of the forest around her.

She stopped suddenly and skidded slightly. She sniffed the air.

A rabbit, close.

Over there.

 

She waited for Ginny to wake her. Just lying there on the cool ground was nice. Even when Ginny had woken, Hera waited until Ginny had poked her shoulder to ‘wake up’. They dressed and made their way to breakfast, meeting up with Hermione, Nora, and Akosi, who congratulated her on her success in the first task.

“Thanks, Akosi.” Hera said, starting on breakfast.

“Have you opened your egg yet?” She asked.

“No, not yet.” She replied.

“Fleur said you were told to open it in private,” Akosi said. “But really, it’s better if you put it under a bedspread, as well as in private. It’s really loud.”

“Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.” Hera said. She ate a little more then stood. “I just need to grab my things for our first class anyway, so I think I’ll go have a look now.”

 

She and Ginny arrived back at the common room. As requested, Nora and Hermione had deposited Hera’s egg into her trunk. When Hera opened it, however, she realised Akosi must have been underexaggerating the sheer noise, wailing, shrieking noise that came from it. Hera slammed it shut. That was a problem for another time.

 

A week later, professor McGonagall delivered a grim pronouncement after their transfiguration class.

“As a part of the Triwizard Tournament, a Yule Ball is held.” She said. “It is an opportunity for students from the three participating schools to let their hair down.”

Whispers broke out among the students.

“Quiet.” She hushed. “The ball is opened to all those fourth year and above, but younger students may attend if they are invited. The ball will be on the twenty-fifth of December. I will be holding a dance practice for students unsure of their ability in the coming weeks.”

As the rest of the class was heading out, McGonagall cornered her.

“Miss Potter, as one of the Champions, you will be required to open the dance.” She said. “This means you will require a partner, one way or another.”

“I- okay, professor.” Hera said, wanting to say something, but deciding better of it. She left the classroom, heading down to lunch.

She hadn’t expected this. Having to find a partner for the ball… that was a daunting prospect to say the least. Even asking someone was disconcerting, especially with how half the school had been treating her since her name came out of the Goblet of Fire. But there was also the fact of taking a ‘date’ to the ball.

Nora had said that the wizarding world wouldn’t approve of her liking girls, but at the same time, the thought of asking a boy to the dance made her stomach turn; Not just because all the boys she knew were either a lot older, or were total creeps.

She could ask a girl… a vision of Fleur wearing a silver-grey suit appeared before her. She blushed. But no, Fleur would probably want to go with someone her own age. Hera was also fairly sure she thought of her as a younger sister figure, given what Fleur had said about Hera and her sister Gabrielle’s similarities. Really, it would probably do them both well to dispense with this crush as soon as possible.

But who else could she ask? Her mind drifted to her friends, only for her to pull it back. That would just make things awkward between them… but at the same time, Ginny wouldn’t be able to go to the ball if she wasn’t invited. But If she did take a girl people would react negatively.

“Hi Hera.” Someone said, and she was pulled from her thought spiral. It was Susan.

“Hi Susan.” She said politely.

“Have you heard about the Ball?” She asked.

“Ugh, don’t remind me.” Hera said sarcastically. “Apparently I need to find a date because I’m a champion.”

“Eesh, that must be really stressing you out.” Susan said. “Any idea who you might ask yet?”

“No. It’s bad enough that half the school hates me for entering the tournament,” She said. “Even though they have gotten better since the first task.”

“Yeah, those dragons were really something.” Susan said. “You did really well.”

“Not as well as Viktor Krum.”

“He’s got three whole years on you, and the Bulgarian team’s coach to tell him how to fly.” She said, patting Hera’s back. “And he only beat you by one point.”

“Huh,” Hera said. “I suppose when you put it like that it isn’t so bad.”

“So, no idea who you’re taking to the ball?”

“No; you?”

“Oh, I’ve got my eye on someone.” Susan said, crossing the threshold into the great hall. “See you later, Hera.”

Hera walked over to the Gryffindor table and sat down next to Hermione. She moved the plate out of the set place and lowered her head to the table, enjoying how the cool polished wood felt against her forehead.

“The ball?” Ginny asked questioningly.

Hera just groaned.

“Thought so.” Ginny said.

Hermione and Nora exchanged glances.

 

By the time she got back to common room that evening, Hera still wasn’t sure if she should ask a girl to the ball.

She settled into an armchair next to Hermione. With Holidays approaching, Hermione had finally seen fit to take a break from her study and take a look at the various records of House elf rights campaigns that Nora’s gran had given her last Hogsmeade Visit.

Apparently, the last major push for elf rights, let alone emancipation, had occurred back in the 1800s before Grindelwald’s rise to power in Europe. Back when Augusta was just leaving Hogwarts, she had joined up with a group of individuals concerned that they as a society were enslaving creatures against their free, but thoroughly indoctrinated, will. It was made up of mostly muggleborns, children of extreme progressive families like the Longbottoms, and disillusioned pureblood heirs, some of whom were playing at rebellion.

“Just how old is your gran, Nora?” Hera had asked.

“I’ve never asked.” She said politely.

It didn’t take long for their group to realise that he-who-must-not-be-named, AKA Ron Weasley, was staring pointedly at the parchment that Hermione was reading. Holding a quill and copying the words down.

Hera stared at him angrily.

It took a bit longer for Ron to notice the stares he was accruing.

“What’s that for?” He said annoyedly.

“Since you think it’s fine to stare at people, I thought I’d join in.” She said.

“Well stop it.”

“Are you going to?” Hera asked. “And why are you copying down Hermione’s notes on House elf welfare, anyway?”

“Oh, that’s what it is, I thought it was a little long winded for Defence.”

“So, you’re copying my Homework, now?” Hermione turned. “Ugh, let’s go somewhere else, Hera.”

“While you’re there, see if you can find anyone desperate enough to go to the ball with either of you.” He shouted as they went up the dormitory stairs.

“What a shit-stain.” Hera muttered.

“Something’s got you on edge.” Hermione said. Stopping just outside their dormitory. “It’s the ball isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” She said reluctantly, entering her dormitory and going over to sit on her bed. Hermione followed.

“Is it about finding someone to go with?”

“Yeah, you know me well.” Hera sighed. “I absolutely do not want to take a dude.”

“But you have to take someone.” Hermione confirmed. Hera nodded. “So, I guess you need to publicly come out.”

“I don’t know.” Hera said. “What if something goes wrong?”

“Like what?”

“Like everyone hates me?” Hera replied.

“Hera, you’re the Girl-Who-Lived, that’s sure to count for something.” Hermione said. “I’m probably not going to be able to for a while. I’m not just a muggleborn, but I’m black, too.”

“Yeah, sorry.” Hera said, hugging her friend.

“But for me to be able to, someone needs to stand up and normalise it.”

“You’re right.” Hera said, determined. “I’m going to take a girl to the yule ball.”

A thought occurred to her.

“But I have no idea who to ask.” Hera said. “I was thinking Ginny, but that might get a bit awkward with our friendship, and I don’t know if she wants to come out.”

“You could ask her.” Hermione said. “Just talk to her, make sure she knows you’re just going as friends.”

“Maybe, but I’m not sure that’s really an option if I do go with a girl.” Hera said, “It’s like, I gotta be serious about it if I were to take a girl. Does that make sense?”

“It does, I understand.” Hermione said.

“And I’m also scared of what Mrs Weasley will say.” She said, thinking back to her reaction to her biting Ginny at the end of her second year. “When I bit her, Mrs Weasley was really upset, and I don’t want her to think that I did something like that again.”

“I was going to say that it would be Ginny’s choice, but that’s certainly a valid reason to be scared.” Hermione said. “But at the same time, you need to do what makes you happy. Talk to her.”

“What if she doesn’t want to go?” Hera asked, flopping onto the bed.

“Then you go find someone else, like Nora.”

“Yeah, she’s an option…” Hera said. “and a great friend, I just feel like her whole ‘situation’ is going to further complicate things.”

“I guess that’s fair.” Hermione said. “But if you don’t ask her, she probably won’t have a date. She might want to avoid the whole situation.”

“Yeah, I know.” Hera sighed.

“Or you could ask Susan.” Hermione said.

“Susan?” Hera asked. “Susan who?”

“Susan Bones, she’s been flirting with you all year, Hera.”

“What?” Hera said. “No, she hasn’t.”

“Yeah, she has.”

“She just ducked in to pass on that message from her aunt.”

“And all those other times you’ve been talking this year?” Hermione said.

“I- what?”

“I saw you two walk into the hall together today.” Hermione said.

“I bumped into her after McGonagall told me about the Yule Ball.” Hera said. “Besides, I don’t even know if she likes girls too, let alone would want to reveal herself for the ball.”

“Hera, that’s exactly why you ‘bumped into her’, really, she’s practically half Slytherin.” Hermione said, rolling her eyes.

“And her liking girls?” Hera asked.

“That’s just you being oblivious. Especially with respect to her feelings for you.”

“No, there’s no way she likes me.”

“Why?” Hermione asked. “Why is there no way?”

“Well…” Hera said, her voice trailing off as she struggled to think of a reason why Susan couldn’t like her. It couldn’t be because of the Triwizard Tournament, she’d helped her with contacting Cedric.

“Are you scared of her liking you?” Hermione said gently. “Or are you scared of her rejecting her because you do like her?”

Did she like Susan? Hera cast her mind back to the talk she had had with Susan that morning. Susan was nice, and really confident, unless she was caught off guard like in the compartment on the train. Hera wasn’t like that, she knew it. She had been trembling all week up to the first task, not to mention how bad she had reacted when her name was drawn from the Goblet…

“She is nice.” Hera admitted. Her expression darkened. “But what about when she finds out I’m a werewolf?”

“That’s your fear of rejection again.” Hermione said. “You’ve never exactly bandied the fact about, but you’ve never been nervous about anything to do with it before.”

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right.” Hera said. She needed a plan… but the original one was losing some appeal. She could talk with Ginny first, or she could ask Susan. No. her friendship with Ginny was more important, she owed it to her to talk with her first.

“Thanks Hermione.” Hera said. “You’ve been a great help.”

“You’re welcome, Hera.”

“I may not be as smart as you, Hermione.” Hera said. “But if you ever need someone to talk to, come and ask me.” She pulled her friend into a hug.

“About that…” Hermione said. “I’ve been asked to the ball by someone.”

“Really?” Hera grinned. “Who is it?”

Hermione looked cautiously around the dormitory to check that none of their housemates had gotten in.

“It’s Viktor Krum.” She whispered in Hera’s ear. She pulled back and clarified “But just as a friend.”

“That’s great.” Hera smiled. “He’s quiet, but nice from what I can tell.”

“He asked me in the Library while I was doing the last of my Christmas holiday homework.” Hermione said.

“Your dream date!” Hera whispered teasingly.

“Hush, you.” Hermione said. “I’m just not sure whether I should go with him.”

“Hermione, if he can see that you’re anywhere near as special as you are then you should jump at the chance to go with him.” Hera said. “Even just for the experience, see what it’s like dancing with Viktor Krum.”

“No!” Hermione wailed, with hyperbole. “That’s what I was afraid of.”

“Seriously, Hermione, go with him.” Hera said sincerely. Hermione grinned.

“Alright, Hera, you’ve twisted my arm enough.” Hermione said. “Although, since you are going with a girl, you should tell Sirius, and Remus too probably, first; it’ll be all over the papers the next day, and it’s better if they hear it from you.”

“Yeah, there’s a Hogsmeade weekend just before the ball, I can meet them then.” Hera said. “Let’s go back down to the common room so I can grab Ginny for that talk.”

 

## Year 4 Chapter 8

As it turned out, Ginny was already talking to someone. ‘Yelling’ would probably be more accurate, and given that it was her older, non-twin, brother that she was talking to, there was little surprise she was yelling.

“You absolute arse, Ron!” She yelled at the top of her lungs. “How dare you presume to make that sort of decision for me.” Hera and Hermione stopped at the bottom of the stairs.

“Oh, so Seamus isn’t good enough for you?” Ron yelled back. “And you couldn’t go to the ball anyway, we’re doing you a favour.”

“No, he ruddy well isn’t good enough for me.” She shouted. “What did he offer you in return? That he could convince Lavender to go with you?”

“I-“ Ron’s awkward silence indicated that this seemingly was what Seamus had offered him.

“He couldn’t convince her to go with Dean, and he’s the only half-decent one out of the lot of you.” She yelled.

Seamus leaned across and whispered something in Ron’s ear. Ron laughed.

“And what was that?” Ginny said, whipping out her wand, partly reminding Hera of her mother.

“Haha,” Ron managed to settle a bit before he repeated Seamus’ comment. “He said, at least we’re not half a man.” His eyes flicked to Nora, who flinched.

“If that’s how you feel!” Ginny’s eyes flashed with anger, and she sent two bolts at Seamus and Ron, who panicked as Bats started crawling out of their noses. Ginny turned. “Nora! Will you go to the ball with me!”

Nora nodded, and Ginny grabbed her by the hand, dragging her towards the staircase where Hera and Hermione stood.

“Back up we go.” Hera said, they turned and fell into step in front of Ginny and Nora.

 

“Wait, you were just about to ask me?” Ginny said.

“Yeah, me and Hermione just had a talk about it.” She said. “Because there’s no way I’m taking a boy to the dance. I was going to ask if you wanted, but I was a little unsure about your mum.”

“I can handle her myself.”

“I know you can, but in case you didn’t want to, I may have a backup.” Hera said.

“Oh, are you and Hermione going together?” Nora asked.

“No.” Hermione said. “I already have someone lined up.”

“Tell them.” Hera said.

“No.”

“Aww.”

“Ok.” Hermione said, yielding with very little effort. “Viktor Krum.”

“Nice.” Ginny said. Holding up her hand for Hermione to hi-five it. She did so.

“So, who is your backup, Hera?” Nora said.

“Well, I was thinking of asking… Susan Bones.” Hera said.

“She finally noticed, then?” Nora turned to Hermione.

“Did everyone notice she likes me but me?” Hera asked the universe.

 

Soon enough, term proper was over, and Hera wasn’t sure she’d ever seen the castle this packed over the holidays. Luckily, Susan was one of those who had elected to stay over the holidays. A few days in, Hera located Susan across the hall at breakfast, and kept an eye on her throughout the meal. Waiting until Susan finished to catch her as she was leaving the hall.

Hera glanced over just in time to see Susan rise from the table.

“Wish me luck.” She said, and followed after the Hufflepuff.

She caught up as they both entered the entrance hall, where Fleur was talking to an older Ravenclaw boy.

“Hey, Susan.” Hera said, matching her pace.

“Hi, Hera.” She said. “How are you going with finding a date for the ball?”

Hera was about to respond when Ron walked past Fleur and the Ravenclaw.

“Yougoballwime?!” He shouted at Fleur.

Fleur didn’t respond, just fixed him with a glare. Ron, needless to say, was rather intimidated and ran off into the great hall.

Hera laughed to herself.

“Was that Ron Weasley?” Susan asked. She chuckled. “He’s shooting well above himself.”

“Tell me about it.” Hera said. They started climbing the grand staircase.

“Didn’t you two used to be friends?” Susan asked.

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Hera said. “He got super jealous when I became friends with his sister.”

“So, how’s the date?” Susan asked.

“Umm…” Hera looked around, then dragged Susan into a side corridor.

“Hera?” Susan asked.

“Susan.” Hera turned to face her. The words chased each other around the inside of her head. Somehow going everywhere except out her mouth. “I- I was…”

“You were wanting to say something?” Susan said. Hera nodded.

“Yeah…” Hera said, taking a deep breath, she held it. After a few seconds she released it. “Susan Bones, will you go to the ball with me?”

Susan stopped for a second.

“I wasn’t sure if you were going to ask.” She said, and put her hands on Hera’s shoulders. “Hera Potter, I would love to go to the ball with you.”

Hera smiled slightly, then…

“Are you sure?” Hera said. She had to make sure.

“I’m sure.” Susan said. “I’ve been meaning to ask you out for a while, actually.”

“What?” Hera said, surprised.

“Well sure, you are incredibly adorable.” Susan said. Hera blushed, then a horrible thought occurred to her.

“I- I should probably tell you… it’s going to get out sometime anyway but…” Hera said.

“I know you’re a werewolf, Hera.” Susan said.

“H- How?” Hera said. “And you’re still okay with going to the ball with me?”

“My auntie is Amelia Bones, remember.” Susan said. Amelia Bones was who Fudge had taken the memories of Pettigrew to last year. “She might be super strict, but she’s horrible at organising her files. And yes, I still want to go to the ball with you.”

“Hermione told me it’s going to be in the papers the day after.” Hera said, giving her one last chance to duck out.

“Hera,” Susan said. She looked her in the eyes. “I want to go with you. Besides, it won’t be news to my aunt, and she’s the only one who’s opinion I care about.”

“Thanks, Susan.” Hera said, a more enduring smile widened across her face.

“Thank you, Hera.” She pulled her into a hug.

They arranged plans to meet up the next Hogsmeade visit, just before the ball, and to meet up with Hera’s godfather so she could come out to him (and Remus). She wasn’t looking forward to it.

 

Before the Hogsmeade weekend, however, was another full moon. The four of them said goodbye to Susan and Akosi in the entrance hall before heading out to the stone circle.

The four of them waited for the change to take them.

“Sirius owled me back a few days ago.” Hera said. “He’s renting a back room at the three broomsticks for the Hogsmeade weekend, I think he’s bringing some stuff for me to try on for the ball.”

“It’d be cheaper than buying something new, I guess.” Ginny said.

“And he knows I haven’t got any fancy clothes.” Hera said. “How are you three going with your clothes for the ball?”

“I’ve already got mine.” Nora said.

“I still need something, that Hogsmeade weekend was good scheduling.” Ginny said.

“I had to send mine back, the store I ordered it from advertised it as blue, but when it arrived it was clearly periwinkle.” Hermione said.

“I hope they send the right one before the ball, Hermione.” Hera said.

“Thanks.” She said. Then they felt the moon begin to change them. “That’s our cue.”

“Just a few hours.” Hera whispered as she ducked behind her chosen stone. “Just a few hours of peace, that’s all I want.”

She was soon distracted by the meat around the stone circle, and moved to eat.

 

With the full moon over, with the Hogsmeade visit and Yule Ball oncoming, Hera had begun to get nervous. She was still sure about going with Susan, and coming out to Sirius, but she felt a prickle of apprehension at both prospects.

Nevertheless, the day of the Hogsmeade visit arrived. She dressed and accompanied Hermione, Nora, and Ginny to breakfast. Susan was waiting for them just outside the hall.

“Hi.” She said simply, and followed them to the Gryffindor table.

They sat down. Before Hera knew it, they had eaten breakfast, they were walking down the path to the village, they were entering the three broomsticks.

Hera felt something nudge her hand. It was Susan’s own hand. She took it and squeezed.

“It’s going to be fine.” Susan whispered in her ear.

“I hope so.” Hera said, and let go of her hand, using both to push open the door to the back room that Sirius had reserved.

“Hera!” Sirius said joyfully, turning as he heard the door opening behind him. He had been leaning against a table which seemed covered in a layer of fluffy black fungus. “I brought a couple of things for you to try on.” He walked over and pulled her into a big hug.

“Hey.” She said, as they separated. She walked over and hugged Remus, who had been leaning against the table as well. She turned back to Sirius. “A couple of things?”

“Well, this was all that I could find in your general size at my parent’s old house,” Sirius. “Well, all I could find that wasn’t cursed, of course.”

“Thanks, I still haven’t got anything to wear.” She said.

“Whatever we find is sure to impress whichever boy you’re taking.” Sirius said. Hera glanced darkly at Susan, she nodded, it was now or never. She planted her feet.

“I’m not taking a boy.” She said matter-of-factly.

“But… your letter said you needed to bring a partn- Oh.” Sirius said, understanding coming over his eyes. There was a period of five seconds where no one spoke. Then Sirius smacked his hand against his head. He turned to Remus and said “Agh, Moony! You were the one who told me not to tell her! And now she’s all nervous to come out to her super straight godfather!”

“Don’t blame me, I wanted her to stay focused on the tournament.” Remus said.

“Just to clarify before we go any further, you’re saying you’re gay, right?” Sirius turned back to her.

“I- yes?”

“Same here, hi-five!” Sirius said, and held out his hand. She returned the gesture hesitantly. He pulled her into another hug. “This doesn’t change anything between us, you’re still my goddaughter.”

“It’s a good thing we did bring the dress robes.” Remus said.

“Choice is always welcome, Moony.” He said. “This calls for celebration drinks.” He trotted over to the door and pulled it open. “Rosmerta! Can we have…” He glanced back into the room and counted his guests. “Seven pints of butterbeer, please?”

He shut the door and returned to the table, swinging around a chair as he did.

“So, you’re gay too?” Hera asked him.

“Yep.”

“Huh.” Hera said. She turned to Remus. “He’s right, I wouldn’t have been this nervous if you’d let him tell me last time.”

“Perhaps, but I think telling you about Us would have knocked you off your game a little.” Remus said.

“Us?” Hera said, an eyebrow raising. “You two’re a couple?”

“Yeah.” Sirius said. “Were before Azkaban too, but we waited a little after I left hospital to resume it.”

“I caught him leaving a Queen concert back in ‘80.” Remus said.

“Haha.” Sirius barked. There was a knock at the door and Susan opened it, Rosmerta handed through around drinks. “I had almost forgotten about that… god, I need to catch up on them; still going strong?”

“Perhaps another time.” Remus said awkwardly as Susan handed him and Sirius drinks.

“I see you’ve got a new friend, not too intimidating, am I?” Sirius said.

“For all I’ve heard about you from my aunt Amelia, it’s a wonder you’re not exuding sunshine from every orifice.” Susan said.

Sirius laughed, droplets of butterbeer splattering the floor.

“Amelia Bones?” Sirius asked.

“Yep.”

“We were each other’s beards.” Then Sirius asked. “How is she?”

“Better than she was, from what I heard, a lot better.” Susan said. “But she still has a picture of Marlene McKinnon on her desk at work.”

“That sounds like her…” Sirius said sadly. Then he snapped out of it. “Sorry, you must think I’m so rude, what’s your name?”

“Susan Bones.” She said. “Hera asked me to the ball.”

“Well,” he adopted a comically threatening tone. “You better treat her right, see?”

Susan rolled her eyes. Sirius laughed.

“Anyway, how have the rest of you been?” Sirius turned to Hera’s other friends, who had been chatting and listening as the fancy took them. “Got any more closets to open?” he joked, laughing softly as the hands rose.

 

Really, Hera reflected as she finished trying on the fiftieth of different dresses and dress robes, she shouldn’t have been nervous. What she should have been was dreading all these garments she had tried on. It had taken hours. Ginny and Nora had wandered off to go find the redhead a dress about an hour in.

“Okay, we’ve narrowed it down to these four.” She said, emerging from the makeshift change room and deposited the last of the four chosen. Two sets of dress robes, and two gowns.

“I think that one,” Susan pointed to the far right one, a gown with see-through sleeves. “Goes better with your hair. Let’s it stand out more.”

“I still think it’s too symmetrical.” Hera said. “And I don’t really like the sleeves.” She held up a dress that had the shoulder pieces cross over on the chest. “This is sort of what I’m after.”

“That one has that beading on there, though.” Sirius said. “That went out years ago.”

“The beaded panel is removable.” Hera said.

“But then what will you cover up that area with?”

“How about one of the vests from here.” Hermione said. Unbuttoning one of the vests from the robes. “It’s cut fairly low, so you’ll still see the asymmetry.”

“Great idea.” Hera said. “But I don’t much like the train, that just seems like it would be a tripping hazard.”

In the end, she ended up with a very nice dress, mostly back with silver detailing, and asymmetrically designed chest support for what she had. The dress was hemmed to her knees. The vest was made with fairly ergonomic use of the fabric, although it would be the final touch that brought the outfit together and hid where the beading had been, it didn’t obscure the particular parts she liked from it.

They slumped down in their chairs.

“Ugh, finally.” Sirius said, finishing the last of his second butterbeer. “Moony, can you…?”

“I can pack this up, but you owe me, Padfoot.” Remus said, brushing a hand on his shoulder as he walked past. He separated the chosen outfit and waved his wand, those not chosen folded themselves and neatly packet them into a series of trunks over by the far wall.

“Thank you so much, everyone.” Hera said.

“Well I can’t not go with you now.” Susan said. “Not while I’ve given up all morning to this.”

“Sirius, the other thing?” Remus said from where he was cautiously placing Hera’s dress and vest into a bag.

“Oh, right!” Sirius said and leapt up. He grabbed something long and thin from one of the bags he had brought with him. it was a box. “This is last year’s Christmas present.”

“You were on the run, that doesn’t count, you didn’t have to-” Hera said. She took the box from him regardless. She opened it. “Never mind, I take it all back, you’re a piece of dung.” She turned the box around to show Hermione and Susan the piece of jewellery inside it. It was a black choker with a circular piece of silver in the middle. “He’s given me a collar.”

“I didn’t-“ Sirius said, shocked. He rounded on Remus, who was chortling slightly. “When were you going to tell me?”

“I was waiting for you to figure it out for yourself, Padfoot.” He said, emphasising Sirius’ nickname.

“I didn’t realise, Hera. Argh, I’m an idiot.” Sirius said. “But it’s bewitched to show which phase of the moon it is.” Hera looked down and indeed saw that some of the silver along one edge was overlaid in black, forming a small crescent so that the whole of the silver looked like a waning gibbous. Hera chuffed.

“It’s nice.” She said. She closed the box and put it in her bag. “You piece of dung.” She teased.

The door to their back room opened and Ginny and Nora came back in.

“Are you finished yet?” Ginny asked.

“Just about.” Hera said.

With that, they bade goodbye to Sirius and Remus. It was a good thing that they had all finished their Christmas shopping earlier in the year, as they had hardly any time left at Hogsmeade after they finished up.

That night, Hera lay awake thinking that perhaps the wizarding world would be upset with her being gay, but did it all really matter now that she knew Sirius and Remus were fine with it, even encouraging?

She was tempted to ask Hermione if she could talk about it, but she was probably fast asleep. Not to mention she had problems of her own to deal with, with Viktor, and her own sexuality, and how she was treated in both worlds because of her race.

She probably should have talked about it with Sirius that morning, but they were so caught up in the dresses and such that she didn’t have much time for a serious talk with him.

Her thoughts eventually drifted to Susan. She was very nice. But so was…

 

## Year 4 Chapter 9

Christmas day dawned bright and early for Hera. Sirius has sent her a folding knife that he said could open magical locks, and Gilderoy Lockhart had sent her and advance copy of his latest book ‘Comrades in Conspiracy’ about ‘their’ (her) adventures in the Chamber of Secrets. After presents, the day was filled with contrasting relaxation and last-minute preparations for the ball. In the late afternoon Hera and Ginny were dragged up to the dormitory away from their arm-wrestling contest by Hermione and Nora.

“It’s just eyeliner, hold still.” Hermione said.

“I’m not doing it on purpose.” Hera said. Flinching again as the pencil inched closer to her eyeball. “Sorry.”

“Do you want to try putting it on yourself?” She asked.

“I think that might be easier for me, thanks for trying anyway, Hermione”

“How do we look?” Ginny said from the dormitory door. Hera looked over, Ginny was wearing a pale pink and green dress, and Nora…

“It actually fits me now.” She said, giving a twirl in her mother’s red and brown dress. “I had to let it out a bit, but still.”

“You both look fantastic!” Hera said, getting up and pulling them into a hug.

“Lavender, are you nearly done in there?” Said on of their dorm mates, Fay Dunbar, as she knocked on the bathroom door.

“In a minute!” She called out.

“Which do you think with this sari?” Parvati Patil asked the girls in the doorway next to her bed. She held up a different earing next to each ear. “I can’t decide.”

“I’d say the ones with the little pink stones, to match.” Hera said. “But the gold ones look nice too.” Nora and Ginny pointed to the gold.

“The gold, then. Thanks.” Parvati said.

“I swear this is the exact shade the dress was when I sent it back.” Hermione grumbled. They turned and looked. It was a rather pale shade of blue. A note fell out of it. “They said any brighter and it would wash me out. Me, washed out?” Annoyed, Hermione grabbed her wand and tapped the dress, it shifted to a far brighter blue that looked fantastic against her skin.

A short time later, Hera, Hermione, Nora, and Ginny were on their way down to the entrance hall for the Yule Ball. Hera’s nervousness had been replaced with excitement.

“Hermione.” A deep voice said from behind them.

“Viktor!” Hermione turned and greeted her date. She slipped an arm through his. He was wearing the red formal uniform of Durmstrang, the same one that he and his fellows had arrived in. She allowed herself to be led away, but not before she said “See you inside.” To the rest of them.

Hera looked around for Susan. She spotted her through the crowd.

“I’m going to meet up with Susan, see you later.” She said, waving goodbye to Nora and Ginny.

“Bye, Hera.” Said Ginny shortly. Nora was looking around nervously.

Hera waded through the crowd. She noticed the lonesome Ron staring open mouthed at Hermione and Viktor over near professor McGonagall.

She laughed despite herself.

“Susan, hi, you look nice.” She said, approaching the girl in the yellow dress.

“Thanks, Hera.” She smiled.

“Champions and partners over here, please!” McGonagall’s voice called over the crowd.

“Shall we?” Susan asked.

“I think we have to.” Hera said.

“You’re adorable.” Susan said, and they walked over to the transfiguration professor. The crowd before them began to file in.

“Miss Lovegood, I told you, for third years to attend the ball they must be invited!” McGonagall shouted over the crowd at a blond girl.

Hera raised a hand and waved to Fleur as she pulled the Ravenclaw boy over. She smiled and winked at Hera. Cedric made his way over with another Ravenclaw, this one Hera didn’t know either.

“Diggory and Chang, Delacour and Davies, Krum and… Miss Granger?” Professor McGonagall said with mild shock. She turned to Hera. “Potter and… Where’s your partner, Miss Potter? I did specifically tell you to invite one.”

“My partner is right here, professor.” Hera said, gathering her courage, and gestured to Susan.

“Potter and Bones.” McGonagall said, body stiff and lips pursed. The last of the crowd made its way into the great hall. “When you are called upon, file into the hall with your partners in this order: Krum, Delacour, Diggory, Potter, and sit down at the table with the judges.” She walked off into the hall.

“Hi, I’m Susan.” Susan said, holding her hand out to Fleur.

“Fleur Delacour.” She said kindly.

“Hera, I didn’t know you were gay.” Cedric said awkwardly.

“Yeah, I am.” She said simply.

Luckily, she was saved from any more small-talk when they began to file into the hall.

McGonagall announced the Champions and their partners as they entered the hall, but paused for just a second before she said “Hera Potter and Susan Bones.” Susan grabbed Hera’s hand, and she focussed on that instead of the whispers coming from the crowd.

She looked directly ahead at the judges table, and was surprised to see that Percy Weasley was there, but Barty Crouch was missing. That was odd. She followed as Susan lead her around the table behind Cedric and his partner, and took her seat.

Forty-five minutes and a rare steak later, the champions made their way onto the dance floor as the tables were cleared away.

Hera thought back quickly to the dance classes that McGonagall had given them, she knew how to do this at least. She tenderly moved her hand to Susan’s waist, and she put hers on her shoulder.

The slow waltz began and Hera found herself starting to relax, albeit rather slowly. Hera’s eyes only came up to Susan’s mouth. She tilted her head up a little to look her in the eye. Susan smiled.

One, two. One, two. They danced.

Hera found it easier and easier to tune out the noise around her.

“Susan?” she asked.

“Yes, Hera?”

“I- You’re so confident.” She said. “How do you do it?”

Susan looked thoughtful for a moment. But it wasn’t an answer she expected.

“I suppose its because, like a lot of other purebloods, it’s because I don’t really have to face consequences.” She said.

“I don’t really understand that.” Hera said. “You’re nothing like that blond Slytherin who I can’t be bothered to remember the name of.”

“That’s not really what I meant, growing up with my auntie… she was big on me understanding when I had done something wrong.” Susan said. “But also understanding why it was wrong.”

“That sounds nice.” Hera said, thinking back to the time she was locked in her cupboard for accidently burning her hand.

“Well, I probably shouldn’t have said consequences, more like stuff with people my own age.” Susan said. “There are loads of other people who lost their parents, but I was always like, apart from them for some reason.”

“Any idea why?”

“Probably a bunch of things, but it mostly comes back to you, me, and my auntie’s inclinations.” Susan said. “It’s pretty difficult to keep a secret when you are so sure someone feels the same way, and they react badly.”

“That’s terrible.” Hera said. “They told people about you?”

“Yeah, so in the two years since then I’ve been the house pariah, things can’t really get much worse so I take it in my stride.” Susan said. “It took a lot of favours to talk to Diggory for you.”

“Geez, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, it’s not your fault.” She said. “Besides, you’re the best friend I’ve had since then.” Something inside Hera flinched.

“A friend?” She asked. “Just a friend?”

“Maybe, if you wanted to stay like that.” Susan said. “Maybe more, if you wanted.”

“Could we try more?” Hera said. “I do quite like you.”

“Sure.” Susan smiled. “We could try being more than friends.”

The song wound to a close.

“Thanks for coming to the ball with me, Susan.”

“Thanks for inviting me, Hera.” Susan said. “You might think I’m confident, but I think you’re brave.”

“Do you want to take a break from dancing?” Hera asked.

“Yes please.”

“How about I go get us some punch.”

“I’ll meet you over with Ginny and Nora.” Susan said, and slipped off into the crowd.

Hera walked over to a nearby refreshment stand, where several punchbowls were filled with a yellow, fruity, beverage.

She got in line behind someone and waited.

“Always need to make it all about yourself, don’t you, Potter?” Someone behind her said. She turned to see the blond haired Slytherin. “Not enough for you to cheat your way into the tournament, you had to go and encourage muggle so-“ He cut himself off suddenly as professor Moody stepped in line behind him.

Moody growled.

“You know what I don’t think I need any punch.” He said and quickly left the line.

“Thanks, professor.” She said.

“Anytime, the little prick is always the most disruptive in class.” He said. Cedric pulled into line behind him.

Hera reached the front of the line and ladled two cups of punch, then tried to find her way through the crowd to the seating area.

She eventually managed to extract herself from the dance floor and walked over to where Ginny, Nora and Susan were seated.

Hermione soon emerged from the crowd and joined them. They sat there chatting for a while, sipping the punch.

“Nora’s a fantastic dancer.” Ginny boasted. Nora blushed. “You are.”

“I’ve had lessons for years, it’s really no big deal.” She said.

“It’s still a valuable skill,” Susan said. She stretched out a hand. “Could I have this dance?”

Nora glanced from Hera to Ginny. Hera nodded.

“Ginny, if they’re going to dance together, shall we?” Hera said.

“I- yes, let’s dance together Hera.” She said, and Hera couldn’t help but notice something in her voice.

Hera and Ginny went back onto the dance floor, only to have to duck off of it again as Hagrid and Madame Maxime cut a wide path through the it.

They re-emerged and began a slightly more energetic dance than the one she and Susan had danced to.

They moved together, so different, yet so similar to their monthly hunts.

“Are you alright, Ginny?” Hera asked as a slower song came on.

“I’m fine.” Ginny said, in a way that said she was not fine.

“What’s up?”

Ginny grit her teeth, then spoke.

“Susan.”

“What about her?” Hera said.

“I don’t like her.”

“What don’t you like about her?” Hera asked.

“I don’t know. She’s too tall.”

“You don’t like her because she’s tall?” Hera said.

“Well, maybe not that…” Ginny said.

“Then what?”

“She’s just come in here, to like, our friend group.” Ginny said.

“Ginny, we’re still friends even if Susan is there.”

“I know that…”

“Then what is it?” a thought occurred to Hera. “Are you jealous of her being my date for the ball?”

“No, of course not, I’m here with Nora.” Ginny said.

“That was a bit of a spur of the moment thing…” Hera said.

“I- I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Are you sure?” Hera asked.

“Yes.”

They returned to the seating area after that dance, Susan and Nora had already returned. Hermione was back dancing with Viktor. After a cup or two of punch, Nora asked Ginny back onto the floor again.

“Hey Hera, what would you think of taking a walk outside for a bit?” Susan said, looking at her out of the corner of her eye.

“Sure, that sounds nice.” She said, and got up with Susan, allowing herself to be led over to the entrance hall.

“Hera!” She hears someone say from behind her. It’s Cedric and his dance partner.

“Hi Cedric.”

“I wanted to make sure I told you.” He said. “You haven’t solved the egg clue yet, have you?”

“Errr, no.” She said sheepishly.

“The fifth-floor prefects’ bathroom is a pretty great place to think.” He said. “The password is ‘Pine Fresh’, just take the egg and think things over in the hot water.”

“Oh, well, thanks.” She said.

“I just wanted to say, I think what you two are doing is really brave.” Cedric’s date said.

“Thank you too, I guess.” Said Hera awkwardly, and allowed herself to be dragged out into the grounds by Susan.

There was a path set up, on either side were bushes filled with fairy lights and statues of magical creatures.

Susan must have noticed something was up when she said “What’s the matter? You look upset.”

“It’s Ginny.” Hera said. “She said she doesn’t like you.”

“She is a little cold around me.” Susan said.

“I tried to ask her why but she can’t say.”

“Maybe she’s just not ready to say?” Susan said, and lead Hera off the path to a stone bench, where they sat.

“Maybe, I just don’t want any hard feelings between us.” Hera said. “Especially now. I’ve been trying not to listen all night, but people are saying things; mean things.”

“Let them drown in their own bile.” Susan said. She turned to face Hera.

“Thanks.” Hera said. Susan was rather close.

“Anytime, really.” She said, eyes sparkling in the light shining out of the great hall.

“Susan, I-“ Hera started.

“It is getting clearer every day now.” A voice said.

Hera looked around, the voice was coming towards them. Her eyes darted towards a shrub next to their bench.

“In here.” She whispered, and jumped into the garden bed. She landed in bark on her stomach.

Susan joined her a moment later.

“I am becoming seriously concerned.” The voice said.

“Then flee.” Said the voice of professor Snape.

Hera peeked out through the shrub, he was talking to headmaster Karkaroff.

“I will deliver your excuses to him.” Snape said.

“Methinks I have far less to fear than you.” Karkaroff said. “it was your information that led him to the Potters.”

Snape had led someone to the Potters? Hera’s mind settled on who that might be, and she almost gasped.

“That may be correct, but I have been at Dumbledore’s side for these past thirteen years.” Snape said. “I have his complete trust.”

“Do others think this trust is warranted?” Karkaroff said, becoming agitated.

“They are the last orders I received from the Dark Lord.” Snape said.

“Isn’t it true what they said about Lily?” Karkaroff said. “That you and she-“

“You will not talk about Lily Evans.” Snape snapped. “That is my business, and mine alone.”

“Of course, with her welp here, one must wonder why you have not offed her already.”

“When did your own concern become an interrogation of my, I wonder?”

“I’m simply trying to make you see, Severus, that we should both flee while we still can.” Karkaroff said as he turned a corner and slipped out of sight.

“What on earth do you think that was about?” Susan asked.

“It was Snape.” Hera said. “He’s the one who sent Voldemort after my parents.” She gritted her teeth. No one had told her.

Susan poked her head above the shrub.

“Coast is clear.” She said and pulled herself and Hera out of the garden bed. Hera pulled off the bark that had stuck to her dress while Susan did the same.

“Missed a bit.” Susan said, and plucked a sliver of bark from her stomach area.

“Thanks.” Hera said, sitting back down on the bench.

“Did you… you know, want to talk about that?” Susan asked, also sitting down, her thigh touching Hera’s.

“I- No.” she said. “It’s probably better if I talk with everyone about it.”

“Alright.” Susan said. “I just thought, if you wanted to talk to someone in a similar position, like, with their parents.”

“Thanks, Susan.” Hera said, she looked up into Susan’s eyes. Then, without realising what she was doing, leaned forward.

A few minutes later, chest still fluttering, Hera walked back into the Ball with Susan.

She didn’t meet Ginny’s eye until later, when they parted ways as Hera entered her dormitory with Hermione. Even Hera could tell that she was upset.

 

## Year 4 Chapter 10

Hera was of two minds when she made her way down to breakfast the next morning. On one hand she still felt elated from kissing Susan, but she was also annoyed at Ginny. She had said she wasn’t jealous of Susan, so why did she dislike her?

Whispers followed her as she entered the hall.

She had almost forgotten that the wizarding world wasn’t accepting for half a day. Hermione was ready a copy of the newspaper when she reached her. Ginny and Nora weren’t awake yet, it seemed. The headline read ‘Hera Potter flaunts sexuality at Yule Ball’, as if everyone else there hadn’t been doing so.

She plonked down into the seat and tried to ignore the picture of her next to an artist’s interpretation of Morgana. Although she did have to admit, being compared to the most well-known Dark Lady was hardly insulting.

“So, when am I supposed to have my followers brand my mark onto their skin?” She said sarcastically.

“Oh, that.” Hermione said, closing the newspaper to glance at the front page. “I think you’d need to have a mark before that; but that’s not what I’m reading about.”

“What are you reading about then?” She asked.

“Morgana, they’ve actually managed to fish up some stuff about her that wasn’t in our history textbooks.” Hermione said. “I’m taking it with a grain of salt, or a tablespoon, but there’s some fascinating stuff here.”

“What sort of stuff?”

“According to this she ‘surrounded herself with a slew of fighting maidens which she shared close bonds with’,” Hermione said. “Like a reverse round table.”

“Oh, so that’s how they’re justifying linking us.” Hera said.

She didn’t stay at the table long, too many eyes were looking at her from around the great hall. But just as she was about to leave, what looked like an old brown feather duster fell onto the table from out of the sky.

“Errol.” Hera said, recognising the Weasley’s ancient owl. She plucked the letter from its beak and opened it.

A tense minute passed as Hera read the letter. As she read further, she began to relax slightly.

“Mrs Weasley is… accepting.” Hera said. “She said her not accepting Charlie pushed him away for years. She doesn’t want that to happen again.”

She breathed a sigh of relief. Mrs Weasley hadn’t referred to Ginny in the letter, perhaps she didn’t know about her daughter taking a female partner to the dance.

Overall the backlash she faced from the wizarding world as a whole was fairly minimal, she only received the letter from Mrs Weasley. But the reactions from students left much to be desired. She tried not to think about it much. The overall opinion of her by Hufflepuff house had dropped again, same with Slytherin and even Gryffindor. Ravenclaw either seemed apathetic or just kept to themselves.

She was fairly thankful that her being a werewolf decreased the effectiveness of low-level spells. But the comments couldn’t be blocked out. Shouted in the corridors, or whispered from close behind her. Many of the boys seemed to take it as a personal insult.

In the end, she decided to go out for the night. Just to clear her head, have a run, feel at home.

She made her way alone to the stone circle. She waited a while, then tried to change. She glanced up at the sky, it was very close to a new moon. The moonlight inside her felt old, stale. She couldn’t change. So, she stayed there, in the stone circle, for a few minutes.

Then she got really bored.

She grabbed her wand from her bag and walked into the forest, making for where she knew the centaur camp was. At least Firenze might be good to talk to.

She brought the meat too, even if she couldn’t change, doesn’t mean it should go to waste.

Hera walked past the trees for what seemed like an hour, although it probably wasn’t more than twenty minutes. She was so slow like this.

She was just about to turn around and go back when a centaur emerged from the trees.

“It is not safe for students to be here, especially these days.” He said. “Turn around and go back where you came from.”

“Magorian?” She asked.

“That is my name, how do you know it?” he asked.

“We’ve met a few times before, It’s Hera.” She said.

“You are not a wolf tonight?” he asked.

“I tried to change, but it wouldn’t come.” She said. “I think it might be because of the new moon.”

“Ahh.” He said. “I would still recommend that you return to the school, but this is as much your forest as it is ours.”

“Thanks for the concern, but I just wanted to be out of the castle tonight.” She said.

“So, you decided to come out to the forest?”

“I was coming to find you and Firenze, actually.” Hera said. “There’s a lot going on at the moment and I wanted to talk.”

“Ah.” He said, “Come, I will escort you to the camp.”

“I brought some meat with me to eat after I changed, you can have it if you want.” She offered.

“Thank you very much.” He said. “We have been running a little low these past few days, the conflict with the Acromantula continues.”

They walked in silence for a while. Before reaching the edge of the camp.

“Brethren!” Magorian called out. “Hera Potter has come to visit, she has brought meat!”

“Welcome back, My Beloved.” Firenze said to Magorian as he trotted over. “And hello to you, young Hera; you seem a little different to the other times we have met.”

“Yeah, I just needed to get away from the castle for a bit.” She said.

“Welcome Hera.” Ronan said, trotting over, holding a basket. “The meat, if you will.”

“Oh, sure.” She said and began piling the meat from her bag into the basket.

“Thank you.” He said, then turned to Magorian and Firenze. “Take the rest of the late hours off, my friends.”

The pair lead her over to what seemed like a seating area, a depressed section of earth next to a flat rock. Firenze and Magorian folded their legs under themselves and sat down. Magorian laid a hand across Firenze’s horse-like back, just behind his human torso.

“What seems to be troubling you, Hera?” Firenze asked.

“A whole bunch of stuff.” She said.

“How about you start with the oldest pertinent issue, and work your way forward.” Magorian suggested. Hera thought for a second, the oldest issue at the moment would probably be Ginny and Susan, although to understand that she should probably cover her being gay first. She looked around the camp.

“Are there woman centaurs?” She asked.

“Woman centaurs?” Magorian laughed. “No, centaurs are all male.” Honestly, that just raised questions about centaur reproduction, but it would probably be rude to ask.

“Well, you two are in a relationship, right?” She asked.

“Yes, that’s correct.” Firenze said.

“Well, do you ever get harassed by wizards for it?”

“They don’t usually tolerate our species long enough to figure it out.” Magorian said. “But I can see what you are saying. Wizards tend to not like menfolk to be in relationships with each other. Would I be correct in assuming that the same is true for human women?”

“Yeah.”

“So, you have recently discovered yourself.” Firenze said.

“I guess you could call it that.” Hera said.

“It is nothing to be ashamed of.” Magorian said.

“I’m not… at least I don’t think so.” She said. “I should probably tell you from the beginning for this.”

“An excellent place to begin.” Firenze said.

“Have you heard about the Triwizard Tournament?”

“Yes, unfortunately we have.” Magorian said.

“Oh, of course, the dragons were kept in the forest.” Hera realised. “Well, this magic selector selected me, in addition to there being a champion for Hogwarts already, and there being an age limit this year.”

“Troubling.” Firenze murmured.

“And according to Dumbledore I have to compete.” She said. “It’s putting a lot of pressure on me, mostly because of what happened last night.”

“Last night.” Firenze said. “Ah, the wizarding holiday.”

“Yeah, so there was a ball.” Hera said. “And I had to take a partner. So, I took a girl named Susan.”

“Which I’m guessing the wizarding world didn’t like much.” Magorian said.

“You’re right, but there’s more than that.” Hera said. “My friend Ginny, she told me she doesn’t like Susan, and I can’t figure out why.”

“You are torn between companionships romantic and platonic.” Firenze said.

“Yeah, I like Susan…but I don’t want Ginny to be angry at me.”

“Perhaps she would rather you be in a relationship with her?” Firenze asked, then he spoke again. “Forgive me, I forgot that straight people existed for a moment.”

“You don’t need to apologize to me for that, Ginny’s also gay.” Hera said. “I- I don’t know, would she?”

“Has she ever given any indication that she might like you like that?” Firenze asked.

Hera thought for a few moments. “She did send me a valentine’s card back in first year.”

“Is that another wizarding tradition?” Magorian asked.

“Oh, sort of; more a human tradition.” Hera explained. “On February fourteenth you send a card or a gift to someone you like, to tell them you like them; but it’s all anonymous, which seems weird to me. What’s the point of confessing your feelings if the person doesn’t know it was you?”

“It sounds confusing indeed.” Firenze said.

“All these holidays humans make up, they are very strange.”  Magorian said.

“Huh, I guess they are.” Hera said. “Although I don’t know many of them, the humans who raised me didn’t really want me to have much fun.”

“That is quite a bit riding on your shoulders, Hera.” Firenze said.

“While I cannot say for sure,” Magorian said. “It sounds very much like your friend Ginny cares for you.”

“Yeah, she’s important to me.” Hera said.

 

She eventually said goodbye to Firenze and Magorian, who now lay embracing against an earthen hill. She bid farewell to the rest of the centaurs, and thanked them for their hospitality. Ronan said as she was going that she was welcome there anytime if she brought so much fresh meat with her, provided she didn’t bring humans also.

She laughed and walked back to the edge of the forest. She got there safely and made her way back up to the stone circle, where she lay down in the soft grass, like she had down many times before, and went to sleep.

 

“Where were you?” Hissed Hermione over breakfast the next morning.

“I was out.” She said simply. “I slept at the circle.”

“Why did you do that?” she asked.

“I just needed to get out of the castle.” Hera said. “It’s fine, I went and had a talk with Firenze and Magorian.”

“Well, that’s not so bad.” Hermione said. “But Hera, the person who put your name in the Goblet is still out there somewhere.”

“Yeah, I know.” She said guiltily. “But the only people who leave the castle that way after dinner is Hagrid and us. So, I won’t bump into anyone there.”

“Maybe so, but they could be snooping around various places looking for you.”

“Why would they? It’s night, I should be in my dormitory.”

“How’s the egg working out.” Hermione said, the sudden subject change catching her off guard.

“Cedric suggested I take it with me when I have a bath.” She said. “He even told me the prefects bathroom password.”

“I wonder what he means by that?” Hermione said.

“No idea.”

 

Whether it was a good idea or not, after sleeping on the ground and trudging through the forest the previous night Hera was rather dirty. That evening she grabbed her invisibility cloak and the golden egg and set off towards the prefect’s bathroom.

“Pine fresh.” She whispered to the portrait, which allowed her to pass. The bathroom was fairly large, and the bath itself big enough to be a small swimming pool. She folded the cloak on the side of the pool and grabbed some towels from a pile on a shelf. She balanced the egg on top of it.

Hera made her way around the empty bath to the multitude of taps. They had little stones set into the handles. She turned one experimentally, and water and bubble bath began to flow out. She turned it off quickly. She searched around for one that seemed like it was just plain water and turned it.

She walked back around the bath, noting a stained-glass window of a sleeping mermaid perched on a rock.

The bath filled very quickly, so Hera stripped down and gently eased herself into the warm water. It was very comforting.

She pushed out into the deeper region of the bath, enjoying how the water felt as it flowed against her. She played for a little, twisting this way and that, before she found herself floating, limbs outstretched into a star shape. She floated there for a bit, enjoying the lapping water.

She eventually made her way back over to the egg, she opened it and the same wail came out. She snapped it shut.

She took it off of the towels and into the bath with her. Perhaps she needed to examine it, somehow?

Her hand slipped and the egg opened, it plunged down to the bottom of the pool. But there was no shrieking, a vague, melodious voice was echoing from out of the water.

 

Hera made her way back to the dormitory easily enough. She even managed to remember to jump the trick step coming up from the fifth to sixth floors.

She entered the common room and deposited the egg upstairs while invisible. Then she returned downstairs to where her friends were sitting.

Ginny didn’t mention Susan at all, in fact she seemed to pretend that she didn’t exist. An uneasy understanding formed between them. They pretended that she didn’t exist while they were together.

Hera recounted the rhyme the egg had told her.

“So, I’ve got an hour to find something at the bottom of the lake.” She said, sitting back. “How am I supposed to do that?” she asked despairingly.

 

In the end it was Nora who found an answer. Her extracurricular herbology studies had led her to a rare herb called ‘Gillyweed’. Emphasis here being on rare. They figured that Snape might have some in his private stores; but as it was a plant, Nora timidly suggested they ask professor Sprout first.

This turned out to be a good idea, as although she didn’t have any, she could order some in. Hera offered to pay, but Sprout insisted that she needed a batch anyway for her seventh years, and that the school budget could stretch to include one more in case any ‘went missing’, she winked.

With the promised herb from sprout, Hera just needed to practice some spells that she could use underwater.

Ginny found several jinxes that were strictly nonverbal, and could be cast by inexperienced witches. While Hera was practising the jinxes, Hermione and Nora were busy researching the dangers that she might face in the lake.

The months before the second task rolled around. Professor Sprout informed them that the Gillyweed had arrived, and that she would meet up with Hera just before the task began to give it to her. Everyone else had left, but Hera stayed behind.

“You’re helping me?” She asked.

“Why wouldn’t I?” She replied.

“I never really got the impression you particularly liked me.”

“Well, you are terrible at my subject. But according to Dumbledore there’s a good reason for that.” Sprout said. “Just know that your actions have far reaching consequences.”

 

All that remained before the tournament was a full moon. Hera bounded out from behind her rock after she changed and licked Ginny on her muzzle.

Hera awoke with Ginny huddled into her. She guiltily eased herself out from under her. She stumbled over to her own rock, barely resisting hitting her fist against the grey stone.

Everything was much simpler when she was a wolf.


	7. Year 4 Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 3 of 3 of Year 4.

## Year 4 chapter 11

A few days later, on the morning of the second task, Susan pulled her aside into a cupboard.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” She said. “Have I done something to upset you?”

“No, I- I just need to sort out some feelings.” Hera said.

“What is there to sort out? You kissed me.” Susan said. She paused. “Or is it your feelings towards somewhere else?”

“Yeah.” Hera admitted.

“It’s Ginny, isn’t it?”

“It is.” Hera said. “How did-?”

“Hera, you spent most of our time after the ball talking about her.” Susan said. “You obviously like her.”

“I don’t know…”

“It’s alright.” Susan said. “You two have this connection. I probably should have known this was a temporary thing.”

“Susan?” Hera said.

“You don’t need to see me again if you don’t want to.”

“But I do want to.” Hera said. “I do like you.”

“You do?”

“Yes.” Hera said, then she continued. “But Ginny is important to me, she- Oh no.”

“What?” Susan asked.

“I just figured out the riddle.” Hera said. “The riddle from the egg.” She swallowed. “The riddle for this task said ‘We’ve taken what you’ll surely miss’, I haven’t seen Ginny since dinner last night.”

“Hera, you should stay calm.” Susan said. “Dumbledore wouldn’t let anything happen to her.”

“You don’t understand.” She said, breathing quickly. “It said that after one hour ‘it’s gone, it won’t come back.’ I can’t let that happen to Ginny.”

Susan pulled her into a hug.

“She really means a lot to you, and that’s ok.” She said. “I know you’ll be able to rescue her.”

“Thanks, Susan.” Hera calmed down slowly. “Argh, it’s so annoying. Why can’t I just date the both of you.”

“Hera…” Susan said, then started. “Well, why not?”

“Why not what?” Hera asked.

“Why not date the both of us?” She said. “Separately, I mean.”

“I- could I do that?” Hera asked, the possibility would solve a lot of her problems.

“Why not? The wizarding world won’t like whichever of us you date, so why not both?” Susan said. “I mean, you’d need to talk with Ginny about all this, so you gotta go save her.”

 

Hera practically ran down to the lake after that, where three large stands were constructed out in the middle. Professor Sprout handed her the Gillyweed and she took her spot next to the other champions.

The cannon sounded to begin the start of the task. Hera stuffed the Gillyweed into her mouth. The texture alone made her gag, but after gritting her teeth she managed to swallow. She dove into the water after the others.

 

About forty minutes later, Hera and Ginny surfaced. Ginny gasped for breath and clung to Hera, weighing her down slightly. Which was good, as it kept her gills underwater.

She used her webbed fingers to manoeuvre over to the platform. She pushed Ginny up onto it, where she was immediately wrapped in a towel and given a pepper-up potion by Madam Pomfrey. Hera stayed in the water, professor Sprout kneeled down by the platform’s edge pointed her wand at her and cast a spell. Instantly the effects of the Gillyweed ceased.

Hera pulled herself up and out of the water, Madam Pomfrey wrapped her in a towel and forced a potion upon her too.

Fleur surfaced with her sister soon after, then Viktor with Hermione, and lastly Cedric with the student who had been his date for the ball.

After the point totals the scores had Viktor in first, followed by Hera, Cedric, and Fleur in a tight point cluster. The ceremony blurred by, she wanted to talk to Ginny.

Hera pulled her into an empty classroom as soon as she could.

“Ginny, I’m sorry about how horrible a friend I’ve been to you lately.” Hera said.

“’s fine, Hera.” She said.

“No, it’s not fine.” Hera said. “I just barged into this ‘sort of’ relationship with Susan. I know it hurt you to see me with her.”

Ginny’s eyes flicked away.

“I wanted you to like me.” Ginny said. “But you were so happy at the ball with her…”

“I was happy, but I’m also happy with you.” She said. “Susan said something before the task, we have some sort of a connection.”

“You did save my life.”

“The tournament organisers ‘took what I’d sorely miss.’ That’s you, Gin.” Hera said. “And not just as a friend.”

“I don’t want to mess things up for you and Susan,” Ginny said.

“It’s alright.” She hugged her.

“I’m not even sure if I’m ready for that sort of thing.”

“Then you wait as long as you want.” Hera said. “Susan mentioned something else too, if you wanted; if you agreed to, you could share me.”

“I suppose that will do.” Ginny said, a smile on her face.

 

The solving of Hera and Ginny’s personal trouble correlated with a spike in one of her other troubles. Namely being one of the only openly gay witches in the country, and by far the youngest. The tabloids bandied a new rumour about every morning. They ranged from her using illicit potions to capture the affections of young witches, to her being a reincarnation of every Dark Lady in the annals of history.

Life in Hogwarts castle had reached an all time low. In potions the class, excluding her friends and some others like Dean Thomas and a small group of Slytherin girls, had taken to throwing stuff into her cauldron. In the corridors she could barely walk five hundred metres before a spell harmlessly hit her.

It was perhaps the reaction of the teachers that disappointed her most. Professor Babbling, who taught ancient runes had given her detention for her short hair, claiming it was not uniform; despite the fact that it was the same length as it had been since joining Hogwarts. Neither McGonagall or Hagrid acknowledged her at all during lessons. She had gone to McGonagall outside of lessons to complain about the hexing, but she just claimed that since there was no proof, she could not do anything.

It was the two shortest professors that seemed to have the least negative reaction. Professor Sprout read over her homework when she handed it in, pointed out an error, and gave her a chance to correct it before accepting it. Professor Flitwick seemed to have either not have heard, or was simply ignoring the news; but every now and again when she got a charm right, he would give her what she felt was a few more points than he needed to give.

More and more often Hera found herself choosing to go to the kitchens to eat rather than braving the great hall.

Although she couldn’t really do more than heap praise on the elves ‘working’ there, she could give Dobby something in exchange for their hospitality.

The next Hogsmeade visit she organised to go with Susan for the day. She just needed a few minutes to go into Gladrags wizardwear and grab a pair of colourful socks for Dobby. He had given her a pair for Christmas, which he apparently made himself, with a full moon pattern on one, and a crudely done wolf head on the other. She picked out a pair with a on one teapot and a teacup on the other for him.

She wandered down the Hogsmeade main street, occasionally looking in shops, before Susan dragged her of behind a building.

They emerged a few minutes later looking rather blushed.

Hera’s good mood soured instantly as she entered the three broomsticks, or rather, as soon as she was forced out by an especially irate Madam Rosmerta, claiming she didn’t want ‘their type’ in the building.

They decided to go up to the castle early.

 

In early May, just after the full moon, Ginny got a letter at breakfast. She clued in Hera, Hermione, Nora, Akosi and Susan, who she was accommodating for the time being after they had had a private talk of their own.

“It’s from Percy, just before the second task I thought ‘since it’s all going to be happening underwater, I might be able to use the Marauder’s Map to watch a bit’, that was before I was told I was going to be unconscious the whole time.” Ginny said, then added a small explanation of the Map’s abilities for Susan.

“It was really boring with none of you there.” Nora said, having been left ashore during the task. “Speaking of which, it was a bit weird that Krum’s hostage was you, Hermione.”

“Truthfully, I was a little creeped out when Dumbledore told me they had chosen me for it too.” She said. “But then he explained that it was because I hate Quidditch, and any friendship I had with him was a rare genuine one.”

“Anyway, back to what I was saying.” Ginny said. “I was looking to see if it showed the lake, and I saw Barty Crouch.”

“That doesn’t make much sense,” Akosi said. “He sent that assistant of his for both the ball and the second task, I heard he was ill.”

“Exactly,” Ginny said. “He was walking across the grounds.”

“That’s weird.” Nora said. The rest of them stared at her. “Professor Sprout says that the teachers have a floo that they can use to leave the school. If he was here and sick you wouldn’t think they’d leave him to struggle to the gates to apparate.”

“So, I wrote to my brother, Percy, he’s the assistant, to ask him about Crouch’s health.” Ginny said. “There’s not much here, apparently Percy has been receiving all his orders by owl, which could mean Crouch is up and about; but why fake it?”

 

The months passed and Hera trained for the third task, all while bearing the wizarding world’s social and, on one memorable occasion, physical wrath.

She was getting damn tired of it.

A month before the third task she was called down to the Quidditch Pitch with the other champions.

“What have you done to it!?” Cedric shouted to Ludo Bagman. A multitude of hedges were crisscrossing around the grass field.

“Don’t worry Mr Diggory, we’ll have the pitch back to normal after the task is finished.” He said. “I give you my word; now, can anyone tell me what this is?”

“A Maze.” Viktor said gruffly.

“Exactly, one month from now you will venture into the maze in the order of your point totals.” Bagman said. “The first one to take the Triwizard cup at the centre will be declared the winner.”

“What else is there?” Fleur said, narrowing her eyes.

“Well, there will be a number of obstacles in the maze to test you further, of course.” Bagman said. “Creatures, enchantments, that sort of thing.”

After a few more clarifying questions Bagman dismissed them.

“Hera.” Viktor said, coming up to her. “I was hoping I could talk to you.” Hera hesitated at this, Viktor had proven himself honourable previously, but still… She glanced up, the moon hung high in the sky, nearly full. She could change if she needed to.

“Sure, I can talk.” She said, and followed him to the edge of the forest near the pitch.

“I wanted to let you know, personally, that your orientation is not a problem with me.” Viktor said. “I think you are very brave to have told everyone like you did.”

“Thanks, I only really realised this year, but I guess I’ve always known.” Hera said.

“I have spoken to my classmates, and made it clear that they are not to go along with this harassment campaign the wizarding word has put you under.”

“Well, thanks for that too.”

There was a sound of shuffling further in the forest. Hera turned towards it.

Out of the darkness came Barty Crouch.

“Need… Dumbledore… I’ve done… terrible.” He groaned.

“Is that Mr Crouch, the judge?” Viktor asked.

“I think so.” She said.

“Dumbledore!” Crouch shouted, and a few minutes later Hera found herself running up into the castle to Dumbledore’s office.

She skidded to a stop in front of the gargoyle.

“Open up, I need to see Dumbledore.” She said. The gargoyle didn’t move. Of course, she needed a password. She thought back to the dim memories of her first night as a wolf, the password back then had been: “Jaffa cakes.” The gargoyle stayed still. Maybe if she followed the same theme, she could guess it.

“Flying saucer, chocolate frog, ice lolly…” None of them worked. “What is it then? Cockroach cluster?” she had said it in sarcasm, but the gargoyle jumped aside either way.

She ran up the stairs and into the office, taking Hagrid, Cornelius Fudge, and Dumbledore by surprise.

“Professor Dumbledore!” She shouted. “Crouch, in the grounds, he needs to see you. He came stumbling out of the forest over by the Quidditch pitch. Viktor Krum was with him.”

Dumbledore instructed her to stay there while the three of them investigate the matter. Hagrid ignored her, as he had done in all his lessons since Christmas. So, she was just stuck there with nothing to do. Waiting until they all got back.

She lasted maybe sixty seconds in a chair.

Something out of the corner of her eye attracted her attention.

It was a high stack of red envelopes, they seemed to be surrounded by a strange purple aura.

She walked over to them and picked up the top letter.

It was addressed to her, but she only had about a second to see that before it seemed to explode, a yelled voice being expelled from the parchment.

She tried not to think about what it was saying about her, but some words like ‘perverted’ and ‘unnatural’ featured heavily.

The letter burnt the rest of itself up.

Heart racing, she looked at the addressee on the next letter. Her as well.

Hera took in the enormity of the pile of letters, seemingly from people outside Hogwarts.

She turned away quickly, and another light caught her vision. This was a cool blue, coming from a cabinet in the other corner.

Hera put some distance between her and the letters, and walked over to the cabinet. Inside was a stone basin, with intricate runes engraved around the edges. A silvery liquid flowed endlessly inside it, images showing up occasionally. There was a flash of red hair, long red hair; but it wasn’t like Ginny’s, it was like hers; or hers if it had been longer.

She looked closer, who was that?

Her nose touched the surface of the liquid and she felt herself hurtle forwards.

 

She regained her senses in that very office. The usual twirling devices that usually occupied the office were gone. So was the pile of letters. This must have been a memory.

It was the location that had clued her in. the last time she had been in a not-quite-right headmaster’s office was when she interacted with Tom Riddle’s diary, when he had shown her how he framed Hagrid for opening the Chamber of Secrets.

There was a girl in the office, sitting in the chair Hera had just been sitting in. She was maybe a little older than Hera was, and she had long red hair. Like she had noticed before, it wasn’t the red of the Weasleys, but it was a red she had seen before.

Dumbledore was seated behind the desk.

“Lily, as I understand it you assisted professor Kettleburn with the Centaur?” Dumbledore said. Hera looked at the girl, ‘Lily’, Dumbledore had called her. Now that Hera knew, she could see the resemblance between her and her mother, Lily Evans.

“Yes, I did sir.” Lily said.

“I understand this may have been rather traumatic,” He said. “is there anything you need to talk about, with regard to his final moments?”

“No sir.” Lily said. “He stumbled out of the forest during the lesson, I applied pressure to the wound while the professor tried to assist.”

“Was he conscious? Did he perhaps manage to identify his attacker?” Dumbledore asked. “From what I understand the wounds were indicative of spell-work.”

“He was mumbling nonsense after he fell.” Lily said. “He couldn’t get much out.”

The memory dissolved around her.

She was suddenly in a Hogwarts corridor, following a young man down a corridor. She jogged ahead to get a better look at him. He wore Ravenclaw Robes and had a distinct swagger to him.

He looked to be heading for a corner. Hera walked slightly ahead of him. The corridor ahead was blank, but as he rounded the corner, two figures appeared, jumping away from each other. One with wild black locks that cascaded down past her shoulders, and the other was Lily.

For a second it almost looked like the girls were…

“I told you, Evans, stay away from that Snape boy, he’s under our protection as a member of Slytherin house.” The black-haired witch said. It was clearly an act.

“And I told you, Black, that Severus can be friends with whoever he likes.” Lily said. Snape? Severus? Were they talking about professor Snape? It would be the right time period, given that she knew he had gone to school with James and the Marauders. Who was this other girl, who had mysteriously only been identified as ‘Black’?

“Ladies, ladies, ladies.” The boy whose memory she was presumably in said. “There’s no need to fight. I’m sure that young Mr Snape appreciates you both fighting over him, but you’ll both find good husbands no matter which of you ends up with him.” There was a barely hidden look of disgust from ‘Black’, and a tired look from Lily.

The memory dissolved, and Hera suddenly realised who that Ravenclaw bow was. It was a younger Gilderoy Lockhart.

The scene reformed in the hospital wing.

Madam Pomfrey was fussing over Lily, who was lying unconscious in a hospital bed. Hera had a sudden spike of concern, before she realised this was a memory, and Lily must have gotten better.

Lily tossed a little, and Madam Pomfrey creased her younger, and far less lined brow. She drew her wand and passed it over Lily’s head.

Dumbledore walked in, surprising Hera as he walked right through her.

“Any progress, Poppy?”

“None at all, Albus.” She said. “I’m at a loss for even why she’s asleep. It’s not a spell nor potion that I’ve ever heard of; and it’s certainly not a physical ailment.”

“I had wondered, is there any amount of abnormal magic around her?” He asked. “Perhaps something that could be traced? I know she and Miss Black are often at odds, perhaps she discovered a previously unknown spell in her family library?”

“I’m telling you, Albus, there isn’t any magic that I’ve encountered before surrounding her.” Madam Pomfrey said impatiently. “Apart from her own, that is. My advice is that we should wait-“

Lily shot up in bed, drawing in a great breath. Hera jumped.

“Miss Evans!” Madam Pomfrey shrieked.

“I’m… I’m fine Madam Pomfrey, professor Dumbledore.” She said, struggling to get out of bed. “I think I just hit my head on the bathroom sink.”

The memory dissolved, and Hera found herself back in her own body, in Dumbledore’s office.

She shut the cabinet quickly and went back to sit in the chair.

This warranted thinking about.

 

Dumbledore returned a few minutes later with Cornelius Fudge. Apparently Barty Crouch had disappeared after Viktor had been stunned. Igor Karkaroff was considering pressing charges on behalf of his Champion, and not even Moody’s magical eye had been able to find anything.

Hera nervously looked at Dumbledore, hoping he wouldn’t realise she had seen the memories of her mother.

“Before I dismiss you, Hera; is there anything you wish to tell me?” he asked. She paused, did she? How about that she was going out to become a wolf multiple times a month outside the full moon? How about that she was afraid that Ginny’s tolerance of Susan would disintegrate at any moment? How about…

“Those letters… over by the fire.” She said.

“Ah. I had thought it would be better for you to not hear what the wizarding world thought of who you love.” Dumbledore said. “I have been intercepting and burning them.” A knot tied in her throat, there had been more, so many more of those letters.

“Thank you, sir.” She said.

 

“Why would Dumbledore be looking through memories of you mum?” Susan asked at breakfast the next morning.

“Yeah, that’s really weird.” Ginny agreed.

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out, and who that girl she called ‘Black’ was.” Hera said.

“What did she look like?” Nora asked. Hera strained her memory, trying to remember anything beyond the hair.

“She had dark eyes, and high cheekbones, and a bunch of wavy black hair.” She said.

“Well, there’s a few possibilities, from ‘Black’ she could be referring to the black family.” Nora said. “Eyes fit with that too.”

“You think she might have been one of Sirius’ cousins?” Hera asked.

“Yeah, but the hair only fits with one of them.”

“Who?”

“Bellatrix.” Nora said, darkly.

“Oh.” Hera said, glad she hadn’t told them about everything in Gilderoy’s memory.

“What about that thing about the centaur?” Susan asked

“He died, I think.” Hera said, glad for the distraction

“We could probably go ask them about it.” Ginny said.

“Go ask them?” Susan asked.

“We’re on pretty good terms, I even visited in my human form recently.” Hera said.

“That’s pretty cool.” She said.

“But what about her in the hospital wing?” Hermione asked. “She sounds like she was acting suspicious.”

“Maybe the centaurs gave her some of that plant for trying to save one of them?” Ginny suggested, giggling.

“Maybe if she had succeeded, but I think this was later; she looked older, maybe seventh year compared to fifth.” Hera said.

“Never change, Hera.” Ginny said, smiling.

Hera chose not to tell them about the letters in Dumbledore’s office.

 

Last night of the coming full moon was a Saturday, and Hera could barely wait for the first night. It was good to be able to escape the castle on her own, but with everyone else it was much better. They had decided that they would set off for the centaur camp at midday on the last day of the moon since they had no classes.

Thursday, however, was the day Akosi would be leaving. The summer solstice would be there soon and during it she needed to be with the other apprentice guards back in Wadata. They met her alongside several other Beauxbatons in the entrance hall.

“I’ll see what I can do to organise you to visit during the summer.” She said to Hermione. Then she turned to Hera. “Keep up the training, I know you can make it through; even if Fleur’s going to win.”

“Thanks, I’ll be sure to make her work for it, though.” Hera grinned.

Madam Maxime escorted her personally from the grounds, where a Wadatan envoy was waiting with an international portkey.

Hera didn’t know who did it, but from the crowd behind her, leaving the great hall after lunch, a hand emerged. She jumped away, knocking into a group of Beauxbatons girls.

She apologised profusely, but the Hogwarts students who had seen chose this point to pile on several comments.

Hera balled up her fists and ran out into the grounds, away from the voices of the students.

 

## Year 4 chapter 12

She eventually calmed down and made her way back inside. Everything was just… so much. She counted the minutes until dinner, until it ended, when she and her friends would walk out to the stone circle to change.

They stepped into the moonlight and Hera finally managed to mostly kick the mood she had been in.

“What do you think we’ll find tonight?” She asked excitedly.

“I think the rabbits are starting to grow back after winter,” Ginny said. “They’re always tasty.”

“Imagine if we found another boar though.” She said.

“They’re so aggressive though,” Nora said. “I’m always afraid one of us is going to get gored.”

“We’ll be fine.” Hera said as they reached the circle.

She chose to ignore Hermione’s stares.

Hera looked back up at the castle as the change began. The smallest sadness filled the pit of her stomach. She ducked behind her stone. It had been so nice for… nice if dangerous for nearly three and a half years. Certainly, more of a home than the Dursley’s ever had been.

Her mind changed to that of a wolf’s, and she didn’t think of the castle or it’s occupants anymore.

Until the frolicking, and hunting, and eating was over, and it was time to settle down to sleep around the circle.

Ginny, Hermione and Nora emerged from the forest, heading for the circle. Hera looked up at the castle, turned, and walked back in.

The others wouldn’t realise that she hadn’t joined them until morning.

 

Hera ran through the forest, the lightest rays of dawn approaching on the horizon. She was further in than she had beer been before. She had run past the centaur camp a long time ago.

She felt the sun begin to push her to change back.

She refused.

Hera exited the forest into a clearing. There were wolves here. Tiny wolves, that didn’t make sense.

They formed a circle around her, growling, trying to force her away.

She would not be intimidated like this.

From the back of her throat she expelled a snarl, this seemed to cow most of them; those that weren’t decided to disperse as their numbers dwindled.

Now that they knew she left at her own behest, not theirs, she turned away from the clearing and went back into the forest.

Her tiredness had begun to overcome her; but changing back was bad, going to sleep would allow her to be overwhelmed by the sun, and then the change and regret would come.

Hera sniffed the air, prey was close. It was not on its guard during the daytime.

She crept through the forest towards it. A deer was leaning down beside a small stream. She pounced on it. She flipped over the top of it as it caught her with a pair of small antlers.

She righted herself and dashed after it.

It was slower than her, but slightly more manoeuvrable. She ran at it, smacking into trees as it wove through the forest. She growled.

Eventually it tripped on some leaf litter and her jaws closed around its neck. She shook it. Dead.

She mentally calculated where the clearing with the tiny wolves was, and began to drag the corpse back to them.

They accepted her far easier this time. Welcomed her, even.

She set the deer down halfway into the middle of the clearing, and took a chunk out of its neck. Then she moved back. The wolves leapt onto her kill, tearing at the meat she had given them.

She moved around the carcass and lay down in the middle.

This was hers now.

A wave of fatigue washed over her. Her eyes started to close, she snapped them open.

No.

If she went to sleep, if her concentration faltered…

She snapped her eyes back open and stood up. She strode over to the near clean deer skeleton and grabbed a thick leg bone.

She crushed it in her teeth, splitting it down the middle. She carried it back to the middle. Food could distract her. She dropped the bone and it broke in half, exposing the marrow. She lowered her head and began to lick.

It was delicious.

She idly noted one of the wolves come over and start licking the other half of the marrow filled bone.

 

She felt reinvigorated at night. She went out and caught a rabbit. She ate it herself and returned to the clearing.

She had just settled in for a small rest, not a sleep, not a sleep, not a sleep, when she heard something off in the distance.

A howl of three.

She joined them, and soon the other wolves around her did too.

She went out to hunt again, she returned every few hours with a rabbit for the wolves in the clearing.

Dawn eventually came, and once again she was threatened with changing back. She stumbled around the clearing for a while, trying to stay awake.

 

There was a growl over by the edge of the clearing. Her ears perked up. What was it?

Someone, a human, was shouting.

What was it saying?

‘Hair’?

She moved over to the ring of wolves that had formed, wobbling slightly.

Three humans emerged into the clearing. She cocked her head to the side. One of them gasped, the darker one with bushy brown hair.

She couldn’t blame her, she had been surprised to see such small wolves too.

“Hera!” one said. This one had long red hair. She had this sort of… flowery smell about her.

They were all holding sticks. Tiny sticks, even too tiny to entertain one of these tiny wolves.

She padded forwards, breaking the circle. Why were these humans here?

She moved closer to the red haired one, moving her nose in close and sniffed. She had smelt these humans, especially Red, somewhere before.

But there was also something else…

They almost smelt like wolves.

But that wasn’t possible.

“Hera,” said the last one, this one with brown hair that went to her shoulders. “We know you’re still in there.”

“Are you stuck?” the bushy haired one asked.

It seemed they were talking to her.

She shook her head. She wasn’t physically bound in any way.

“Come back with us, please.” Said shoulder length hair. She cocked her head to the side.

“Please come back.” Said Red. She shook her head, she didn’t want to go back to the castle. If she went back, she would have to change back. She didn’t want to change back. She kept shaking her head.

She stopped suddenly, she could feel the action bring sleep closer.

“No? Hera, you have to!” Red said. “For the tournament.”

She shook her head violently; the tournament was something to escape from.

“What about your mum, she wouldn’t want you to live out here like a wolf.” The shoulder length haired one said.

Mum? She stretched back her memory, but she couldn’t remember anyone called that. She cocked her head.

“Do you… not remember?” the bushy haired on said. “We were going to ask the centaurs about her today, remember?”

She shook her head again, stopping suddenly after her eyes began to shut.

“You’re not coming back?” The shoulder length hair asked.

She shook her head softly.

“What about Susan?” Red asked.

Susan? That was someone she knew.

“What about me?” Red asked.

Hera opened her mouth and the world went dark.

 

Hera kept her eyes shut. She couldn’t be here. Not here, anywhere but here. She swallowed, the dryness in her throat suddenly apparent. She grasped the sheets of the hospital wing bed.

“Hera?” she heard someone say from very far away.

She felt around inside herself. There was only a tiny flicker of moon light, far from enough to change. She growled.

“Hera!” the voice said, and she felt arms wrap around her. She shrugged them off, groaning and twisted around. “Hera?”

“Go away.” Hera groaned. She didn’t want to see anyone.

“Hera, you can’t just-“

“I said GO AWAY!” She shouted into the pillow. Tears began to pour from her eyes. She cried herself out before she realised that whoever it was had gone. Curled in the blankets, with nothing to do, she fell asleep.

 

“Hera.” She heard someone say. It was a different someone. Still, they were probably just as bad.

“Go away.” She said, curling into the fur beneath her.

“I did not come here; you came here, young one.” Said the voice. Hera looked up at the odd answer. She was greeted by the black fur and glowing white eyes of the Wolf.

“Oh. Hi.” Hera said.

“You’ve not been well lately.” She said. It was not a question.

“No.” Hera said. “Everything’s, everything’s just too much.”

“So, you decided to run away?” she asked.

“Yes,” Hera said, a little ashamed.

“You forced yourself to stay in your wolf form.”

“Yes.”

“Oh, Hera.” The Wolf sighed. “You could have seriously hurt yourself.”

“Maybe.”

“The sleep deprivation alone nearly killed you.” She said. Hera felt a surge of guilt through her. “It will have a price.”

“Price?”

“You will not be able to change until the next full moon.” She said. “And your human form will be… different.”

“Oh.”

“Tell me, what troubles you?”

“Well… you probably already know, I’m gay.” Hera said.

“How joyous.” Said the Wolf.

“No like, I like girls.” Hera said, remembering the archaic meaning of ‘gay’.

“As I said, joyous.” The Wolf said.

“No one else seems to think so.”

“No one?”

“You know what I mean.” Hera said. “My friends are fine with it because they all like girls too, but everyone else…”

“Is not as accepting.” She finished.

“Not even Hagrid.” She said bitterly.

The Wolf’s head turned and gave her a lick.

“And I’ve been forced into this tournament.”

“That would trouble me too.” She said.

“Ginny likes me but isn’t really ready, and I like her, but I also like Susan.” Hera said. “And I know we agreed we could try to work it out but every so often there’s this tension between them and… argh.”

“Loving more than one is never easy, but I sense this could be easily borne if some other burdens were removed.” The Wolf said “Why did you feel you could not discuss these with your other friends?”

 “Nora’s got enough to deal with, and Hermione…” Hera sighed. “Hermione’s got even more she’s working on than Nora, with the house elves.”

“So, for these reasons you decided to run away?”

“It all just, like, fades away when I’m a wolf.” She said. “I don’t have to think about anything but the hunt.”

“Yes… I know the feeling.” The Wolf said. She sighed. “Please, slide off my back.”

“Wait, why?”

“Please.” She asked. Hera did so, feet impacting on the floor of the white void that was the Wolf’s realm.

The Wolf began to shrink, hair thinning, until a young woman stood where the wolf had. She looked to be in her early twenties. She had short, scruffy black hair and olive skin. Her eyes were the same bright white orbs, she looked tiredly but kindly upon Hera. She wore what looked like a linen sheet folded around to go over one shoulder.

“You… You’re a werewolf too?” Hera said.

“I am _the_ Werewolf.” She said. “I am the Huntress.”

“I- I’ve just been calling you ‘the Wolf’.” Hera said sheepishly.

“It suits me.” The Huntress said, she smiled. “I have been known by far too many names for saying them in one sitting. But I am always the Huntress.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Hera asked.

“So you will understand, you need people around you.” She said. “People who love and understand you, not just base wolves.”

“You’re probably right.” Hera sighed.

“I know I’m right.” The Huntress said, and sat down cross-legged on the floor. For the first time she was here, Hera noticed something out of the corner of her vision. She turned. “Please, don’t look at them.” But Hera had already seen, two lumps lay underneath a linen cloth, like the one the Huntress was wearing. Hera forced her eyes away and sat down next to the Huntress.

“I’m sorry.” She said.

“I try to move away, but they always keep coming into my sight.” She said, sadly. “I don’t like talking about them, but please; if not for yourself, for me, you can’t go at these things by yourself.” She suddenly changed tone. “Except the third task, that you’ll have to face alone, but… you don’t need to prepare alone, as you’ve been doing.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s still coming up.” Hera groaned.

“Good luck, my Huntress.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be The Huntress?”

“Yes, but it’s like how I am _the_ werewolf, and you are _a_ werewolf.” She said. “Would you like to go back now?”

“I think I need to.” Hera said. “I’ve kept them waiting long enough.”

“Very well.” The Huntress said. “When you see her, tell her ‘thank you’.”

“When I see who?”

“You’ll know who.”

 

Hera woke with a start. It was night in the hospital wing. The full moon shone through the window, but she didn’t change.

A whine next to her bed alerted her to someone’s presence. It was a large red wolf.

“Ginny!” Hera said. The wolf poked her head up. “A bit of a reverse from our last meeting.” Hera shuffled over to the side of the bed and threw her arms around her friend’s neck. “I’m so sorry, Ginny.”

She gave a quiet whine.

“I shouldn’t have left you, none of you.” Hera said. “Everything was so much, and I just wanted to block it out.”

Ginny licked her cheek.

“I take it that means I’m forgiven?” She asked hopefully. Ginny nodded. Hera shuffled over on the hospital bed, then patted the mattress beside her.

It turned out that Ginny was far too big for the hospital wing bed to allow them both to lie comfortably, but eventually Hera was able to climb on top of Ginny’s soft fur, while Ginny took up the whole bed herself.

“Why’re you in here, anyway?” Hera asked. Ginny poked her in the chest with a paw. “Ouch, I’m sensitive there.” She rubbed the hurting area. “So, you stayed because of me?”

Ginny nodded.

“Were you here before? The other time I woke up?”

Ginny nodded again.

“Sorry about that,” Hera said. “That was before I had a talk with the W- well, with the Huntress.”

Ginny cocked her head to the side.

“Oh, that’s the Wolf’s name.” Hera said. “And she is a she, she has a human form too.” Ginny gave a short whine as Hera began to scratch behind her ears. “Have you had something to eat?”

Ginny nodded.

“That’s good, can’t have my best girl going hungry.”

 

Hera was free to go from the hospital wing in the morning. She and Ginny took some seats at the Gryffindor table to eat.

Susan practically ran over to her when she entered the hall.

“You’re alright!” Susan said, hugging her. “They told me you’d run away.”

“I did.” Hera whispered. “But I’m back now, I’m sorry.”

“As long as you’re ok,” Susan said. “Please, never feel like you can’t talk to me if something is bothering you.”

“I will, I promise.”

“Now budge up, I’m hungry.” Susan said, smiling.

Nora and Hermione entered the hall soon after, and after Hera apologised to them too, they sat down.

“There’s also something else we need to talk about.” She said as they were preparing to leave the hall. She pulled the other four into a disused classroom. “Ginny knows some, but last night I spoke to this… spirit sort of thing.”

“A spirit?” Nora asked.

“I don’t really know what she was, but it’s not the first time I talked to her.” Hera said. “She told me how to transform outside the full moon back in second year.”

“Which is how she took on the Basilisk in the Chamber.” Ginny said.

“Wait, there actually was a basilisk?” Susan said incredulously.

“Yes.” Hera said. “She’s called the Huntress, She’s- well in her words she is ‘the’ werewolf. We talked about me running away, and how I need to stay with people, with all of you; my friends.”

“So, you’re not going to run away again, right?” Hermione said, concern easing slightly.

“No, she said I could have really hurt myself from staying in my wolf form so long.” Hera said. “And she said there’d be some changes because of it.” She hooked her finger around the edge of her mouth and pulled. Exposing slightly triangular teeth. “I noticed during breakfast, but I think they’re cool.”

“You’re saying that now, but wait till you bite the inside of your cheek.” Ginny said. Hera winced.

“There’s also something else, she wanted me to pass on a message.” She said.

“A message?” Nora asked. “Who to?”

“She just said to tell her ‘thanks’, and that when I met them ‘you’ll know who’.” Hera said.

“So, it’s a woman?” Susan asked.

“That phrasing… ‘You’ll know who’, do you think-?” Hermione asked.

“Are we going to speculate whether every mass murderer is secretly a woman?” Nora said, slightly annoyed.

“No, you are right, Nora, but that’s not exactly what I meant,” Hermione said. “Whoever this woman is might have something to do with Voldemort.”

“Either way, something’s coming, and soon.” Hera said. “I need to get back to training for the third task.”

 

## Year 4 Chapter 13

“I don’t think they’d put dementors in the maze.” Hera said a few days later. Nora had put together a list of useful spells for her to learn.

“Probably not, but it seems like the sort of thing that would be really punishing in a long running task.” Nora said. “So, you really should finish mastering the Patronus charm just in case.”

“Alright, but it’s been a little while so I might be a bit rusty.” Hera said, she conjured up the memory of her first kiss, and cast “ _Expecto Patronum_.” A vaguely four-legged creature burst from her wand, it wasn’t entirely corporeal, but she knew what it was.

“Good job, now there’s this one that I found, ‘Herbivicus’” She said.

Hera smiled, it was good to be back. Even the harassment she had gotten in the corridors had lessened somewhat, rumours about her had some use after all.

She was all but ready for the third task.

 

Hera looked up at the stands surrounding the entrance to the fully-grown maze. She waved to Sirius and Remus in the stands, then to Susan and her friends.

The cannon sounded, and Viktor walked in with one final slap on the shoulder from his headmaster.

Fleur caught her eye and mouthed ‘good luck’, she smiled back. Minutes passed, the canon sounded again.

Hera entered the maze and walked swiftly to the end of the entrance, there was a fork. She turned left, and begun the third task.

The cannon sounded two times later in quick succession. They were all in the maze.

Hera turned another corner.

Now that she was in the maze, she needed to find the cup.

“ _Partem Triwizard cup_.” She said while holding her wand in the middle of her hand. It swivelled to point over to her right, and she made a note to go that way soon.

Hera turned right and slammed into a chest. She fell down.

Hera looked up, expecting to see Viktor, but the creature in front of her was decidedly hairier than the Bulgarian. It also had a much longer face, and horns on its head. A minotaur.

Hera’s eyes widened with shock and she rolled to the side as a large axe slammed down where she had been lying. She scrambled to her feet and took aim.

“ _Impedimenta_.” She cast, the spell fizzled against the beastly man’s flesh. Oh dear. She turned and ran, going further forwards instead of to the right where the minotaur stood.

Large though it was, the minotaur was slow, and she soon rounded a corner or two, leaving it in the dust.

She took a moment to take a breath.

Then Hera continued onwards.

She saw a twinkling ahead. Like little pieces of light. She moved closer, cautiously. More twinkling shone up from closer to the ground, and Hera noticed that there was seemingly a wall of twinkles.

It was glass. Broken glass hovering in mid-air in a wall.

She moved a finger close to the glass shards. They floated towards the finger, but stayed in the wall formation, eventually fusing as she got closer into a circular pane hovering in mid-air.

She moved away and cracks formed on the glass, it broke apart into the smaller particles.

This was supposed to stop her moving through. Hera thought for a second, then cast.

“ _Flippendo_.” She said, the glass shards were blasted back, spread out but still floating. They began to retract. She ducked through them as quick as she could, although she did get some scratches.

Hera moved on and used the directions spell again. The cup was forward, but unfortunately, she was staring at the wall of a T junction. She said a quick eenie-miney-mo and went right.

Hera was flung to the ground as something furry dropped onto her back. She dropped her wand and reached up to the thing.

“Aah!” she shouted as the creature sunk it’s teeth into her shoulder, she managed to grasp it’s fur and threw it away, tearing at the bite wound.

The ball of grey fur landed on all fours. It looked up at her, oval nose and wide, gaping, fanged mouth stained with her blood. Pain radiated from the wound in her shoulder, she looked hurriedly around for her wand.

The thing lunged for her, she managed to dodge, but slammed into one of the hedges.

Hera rolled over and grabbed her wand.

“ _Impedimenta_.” She cast, hoping it would work on this creature. It did, but not much. The thing leapt at her face and Hera dropped her wand again to bring both hands up to catch the bundle of fur.

Sharp claws tore up her arms and she dropped it on the ground in font of her. There was a moment of hesitation from both of them before she caught it in the face with a kick.

It was the creature’s turn to hit the hedge, and Hera was on it before it could recover. One swift blow to it’s face was enough to put it unconscious.

Hera moved her shoulder slightly, testing its motion. A bolt of pain shot through her as she tried to raise it.

Hopefully she could finish this soon.

She walked back the way she was going and picked up her wand.

A few minutes of walking later a scream went up somewhere near her. It was Fleur. Hera looked around, worried, then raced towards it.

She found Fleur unconscious on the floor, she sent up the red sparks that would tell the professors patrolling where to pick her up, and continued on her own.

She turned a corner, and everything went dark.

She looked around, only to realise she was in the Shrieking Shack.

“A boggart? Come on.” She said, and cast the ‘riddikulus’ charm, transforming it into Dumbledore pitching recycling it into toilet paper to the board of governors.

“Hera?” Cedric said, as the house vanished it revealed him past the corridor.

“Hi, how you going?” She asked.

“A lot better than what you seem to be.” He said. She was covered in scratches, dirt, claw marks, and the bite from that fur-ball.

“Hah, probably.” She said. “Don’t worry, the little ones will probably be healed by the time I win.”

“There’s no need to be such a pessimist, they’ll heal eventually.” He said, laughing.

“Whatever.” She said. “Shall we go now?”

She turned left, while Cedric went back to where Hera had come. She used the direction spell, and saw she was right on track.

A shape in the distance caught her attention. It seemed like a little stick figure, with spindly legs and arms, along with flat hands and feet. The head was vaguely oval shaped. It was very active, doing squats and push ups, and every manner of exercise. Occasionally it would do a series of cartwheels, limbs stiff and shaped like and X, before clattering to the ground where it stayed for a few seconds, before going limp and getting up again.

“Hello!” it said in a shrill voice, head twisting to look at her for a few seconds as she approached.

“Hello?” She said. “Sorry, most of the occupants of this maze haven’t been very talkative.”

“No trouble at all.” It said, still exercising.

“Can I go past you?” She asked politely.

“I don’t know, can you?”

“That’s what I want to know.” She said.

She saw now that the hand and feet were not exactly flat, but rather concave, with small spikes jutting from the centre. It’s eyes burned with some sort of magical fire.

“Well, I won’t let you, unless you answer a riddle.” It said.

“You won’t let me?”

A wall of fire appeared just past the thing.

“Oh, okay.” Hera said, “What is the riddle?”

“There is a house. One enters it blind and comes out seeing. What is it?” it said.

“A house… that could mean a building, or some sort of structure…” Hera muttered under her breath. “enters blind, comes out seeing…” The first though that sprung to her mind was an eye doctor’s practice. But that seemed a little obvious. She tried to go more metaphorical with the ‘blind to seeing’ part. “Blind could mean unknowing… a structure that one enters unknowing, and leaves seeing. Ahh!”

“You have your answer?”

“A school.” She said, confidently.

“You got it!” it let out a squeal of joy and jumped in the air. “Go! Go! hızlı, hızlı!” it gestured past the vanishing wall of fire. Hera walked past and waved goodbye to the odd thing.

She walked for a little longer. The fog on the ground seemed to be thicker than normal.

Suddenly, out of the hedge to her left charged a large brown figure. She jumped back. The Minotaur was back.

The great axe swung at her head, but she managed to duck in time.

Hera jumped backwards and backed away.

“Spells won’t affect it.” She muttered to herself, remembering her former encounter with the beast.

She couldn’t change, spells wouldn’t affect it, what could she do?

She thought back over the past few minutes, the answer to the stick-thing’s riddle was school. Nope, that’s a non-starter, this thing didn’t seem in the mood for sitting down and talking.

She dodged to the side as the minotaur charged. She evaded it, but tripped on a root coming out from the bottom of the hedge.

That gave her an idea.

She turned to where the minotaur had slammed into a hedge.

“ _Herbivicus_.” She cast, and the hedge around the half-bull began to grow quickly, binding it in place before it could move. “hah.”

Now that that was dealt with she could get back to more important things. She retraced her steps and continued onwards from where the Minotaur had accosted her.

She turned a corner and there it was. The Triwizard cup. She jogged up to it. There was no sign of the other competitors. She grinned. She did it.

She grabbed the cup, and felt a tug behind her navel.

 

She landed in a graveyard. The cup tumbled away. This couldn’t be just another part of the tournament. Unless they were trying to test her in unexpected circumstances, like how she was supposed to with the dragon.

Hera stood up. There was a large cauldron in the middle of a clearing of gravestones, a fire beneath it. She peered inside it. It was filled with some sort of grey liquid.

There was a shuffling behind her, she turned and a want pointed at her.

“ _Incarcerous_.” Said a voice she knew, Peter Pettigrew had just tied her up. She struggled against the ropes, but Wormtail sent off several more, before dragging her over to a gravestone and tying her to it.

“What are you doing?” She shouted at him, but he didn’t respond, just stuffed a wad of cloth into her mouth. Wormtail moved off and dragged something wrapped in a large cloak over to the cauldron. He unwrapped it, and Hera saw it was a body. Wormtail pulled it up and tipped it over the edge of the cauldron.

Then Wormtail went back for another bundle, this one far smaller. He unwrapped it and Hera shut her eyes. She never wanted to see something like that again. She only opened them again when she heard the splash of it being added to the potion. Then Wormtail spoke.

“Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your child.” He waved his wand and the grave next to Hera cracked. A miniscule amount of white powder snaked its way out into the air and into the cauldron.

“Flesh of the servant, willingly sacrificed, you will revive your master.” Wormtail pulled from within his robes a brutal looking knife. He held it up to the wrist of his arm with the missing finger, and sliced downward. The hand fell into the potion, and Pettigrew cradled the bleeding stump.

“Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken, you will resurrect your foe.” Wormtail began to approach her, and she struggled more violently. Finally, she managed to push the gag from her mouth.

“Did you mention to Voldemort” For that was who this was all for, Hera was sure.  “That I’m a werewolf? If you give him my blood, I don’t think he’ll be too happy.” True, wasn’t sure if anything would happen if he used her blood, but if she could get him to pause…

Wormtail ignored her and sliced open her cheek. He allowed some blood to collect on the knife. He walked back to the cauldron and dropped the knife, blood and all, in.

“Material of the victim, unwillingly donated, you shall purify your defiler.” He said, but added no more to the potion. Hera realised, this was the body that he had put in first, before he was unable to, before he cut off his hand.

The cauldron’s liquid turned red and bubbled sinisterly.

The flames beneath it rose, in the middle of the potion something grew beneath the surface.

The it stood. The flames died down, and Hera looked upon the face of Lord Voldemort.

He stepped out of the cauldron.

“My wand.” He requested, holding out a hand. Wormtail extended it to him. Voldemort took it and waved it over himself. “I am free of the contagion.”

“Master…” Wormtail said.

“Ah yes, give me your arm, Wormtail.”

“Master, thank you.” Wormtail extended the stump towards him, but Voldemort laughed.

“The other arm, Wormatil.”

Wormtail shuddered but did as told. Voldemort ripped up the sleeve, uncovering a tattooed Dark Mark. Voldemort pressed his wand to it, and it became dark, raised, and moving.

Voldemort waived his wand and robes formed around him.

A great snake slithered up to him. Voldemort did not deign to acknowledge it.

“How many will return when they feel it?” Voldemort said, and looked around the graveyard.”

“And you.” Voldemort turned to her. “Hera Potter. You sit upon the remains of my late father, a foolish muggle; very much like your dear mother. They still both had their uses.”

A crack sounded from somewhere in the graveyard.

“But my true family returns.” Voldemort said. More cracks sounded, and figures began appearing around Voldemort. They formed a loose circle, with several gaps. The cracks and appearing wizards stopped for a second.

Then there was just a crack.

No one seemed to notice except for Hera, but she was almost sure she had seen a little splash from inside Voldemort’s cauldron.

“Keep quiet, I’m going to get us out of this.” A voice whispered from behind Hera. She felt the ropes binding her to the headstone loosen. “Act like nothing has happened, I’ll be back.”

Hera stared forward, trying not to let on. Someone was here.

A rustling ran around the circle.

“Thirteen long years it has been.” Voldemort said to the circle. “We are still united under the Dark Mark, then?”

A shiver seemed to run around the circle.

“Or are we?” Voldemort continued. “I find myself confused; why did you, my most loyal followers, who know how far I have ventured down the path that leads to immortality, not seek me out? You slipped back among polite society, as I had instructed, but pleaded bewitchment, did not continue to look for me; you failed to help me rise again.”

“My lord.” One of the circle stepped forward. Hera knew that voice, Lucius Malfoy. “If there had been any sign, any whisper-“

“There were more than whispers, Lucius.” Voldemort said. “And yet the only one to seek me out was Wormtail here.” He gestured to the weeping man, curled in a ball from pain. “Hold out your arm, Wormtail; and we shall see how Lord Voldemort rewards loyalty.”

“Master… thank you.” Wormtail again held out his stump. From Voldemort’s wand flowed silver liquid, glowing and metallic in the moonlight. It formed a hand and attached itself to Wormtail’s stump. “Master, thank you. It is beautiful.”

“May your loyalty never waver again, Wormtail.”

“Hera.” The voice behind her was back. “Time to go.” A hand pressed against her shoulder, and another arm, holding Wormtail’s knife and the Triwizard cup. Hera’s wand was inside it. “Grab the cup and tap it with your wand.”

Hera grasped the cup and her wand.

“But there is someone who I have neglected mentioning.” Voldemort said. Hera tapped the cup. She felt herself pulled through space yet again.

 

Hera reappeared with the owner of the voice and the cup at the entrance of the maze. A shocked gasp went up from the crowd, the ropes fell away from her.

Hera turned to look at the owner of the voice, and found she was already on her feet.

Lily Evans stood naked, red hair still wet, clutching Wormtail’s knife.

“Lord Voldemort has returned!” She shouted to the surrounding crowd.

 

## Year 4 chapter 14

Hera stared up at her mother.

She was here, she had saved her.

She fainted.

Hera stretched out her arms and caught Lily.

“Lily?” Came a shout from the crowd, possibly Sirius.

Madam Pomfrey came running out with a sheet and covered Lily’s nakedness.

Dumbledore was there, he levitated Lily and Hera over into the medical tent and onto two beds. Madam Pomfrey followed them and went over to Hera.

“No, look after her first. I’ll be fine.” She said. The several cuts from the glass pane had already faded, and the claw marks from the fur-ball had nearly closed over. The bite was more serious, but her skin was beginning to encroach over the healing muscle. The matron moved over to Lily and began examining her.

Lily coughed.

“Dumbledore.” She said, arm shooting out to grab the headmaster’s robes. “It’s Karkaroff, he’s not who he says he is. He’s Barty Crouch junior.”

“Indeed?” Dumbledore said, shocked. He turned and walked from the tent.

“Lily!” Sirius said, running into the tent, Remus following behind him.

“Sirius. Remus.” Lily smiled. “Hi.”

“You’re alive, how?” Remus asked.

“It’s a long story.” Lily said. “How’re you?” Hera managed to drag herself out of her bed and over to Lily’s.

“We’re… we’re good.” Remus said.

“So, have you two boned yet?” She asked. Hera let out a snort. Remus looked mortified. Sirius gave an embarrassed looking smile. “You did, hah.”

“Lily? Mum?” Hera asked tentatively.

“Hi, dear; it’s been a while.” She said, raising a hand up to stroke her cheek. “You can call me whatever you like.” Hera fell on her in a hug, happy tears staining the modesty sheet.

“Well, Mrs Potter,” Said Madam Pomfrey. “You seem to be in perfect health, apart from that small fainting spell.”

“I should be fine.” Lily said. “And it’s back to Miss and Evans now, please.”

“Very well.” She said, and bustled off to fine Lily some temporary clothes.

“Lily, what do you mean, Voldemort’s back?” Remus asked.

“He is.” Hera said, drying her eyes. “Wormtail did this ritual thing. He called up all the Death Eaters too.”

“Damn.” Sirius said.

Dumbledore strode back into the tent.

“Barty Crouch is being held up in the dungeons by Alastor, Minerva, and Rubeus.” He said.

“Why is Moody here?” Lily asked. “I thought he would have retired after Voldemort fell.”

“He’s this year’s defence teacher.” Hera said.

“Damn, you must have been really desperate.” Lily said to Dumbledore.

“Out, all of you.” Madam Pomfrey said, bringing over a plain black robe.

Lily didn’t wait for them to leave, she just slipped out of the sheet and threw the robes over her head.

“You can come in, if you want, Sev.” Lily said, and professor Snape slid into the tent.

“Lily…” He croaked.

“Oh, come here, you.” She pulled him into a hug. She released him. “Don’t mention it, all’s forgiven.”

Snape stared at her for a long moment, then his eyes flicked to Dumbledore.

“It is true, the Dark Mark is burning.” He said.

“Severus, you know I would not ask this of you if I wouldn’t do the same myself.” He said. Hera couldn’t help but notice that Lily’s fingers twitched slightly.

“I understand, I will return to him.” He said, and swept from the tent.

Dumbledore turned to face Lily. His usually twinkling eyes were steady.

“Lily, such good fortune I had not predicted.” He said. “How are you still alive?”

“Honestly, professor, I have no idea.” She said. “One minute I was standing in front of my baby, the next I was coming to in a graveyard; not my own, like, the one where Voldemort did his ritual.”

“Well, I suppose we should be thankful that you are here.” He said, expression neutral. “I need to go and reform the Order.”

“You go do that.” Lily said, as Dumbledore strode from the tent.

“You’re really here.” Hera said. Lily pulled her into a hug.

“I’m here.” She said.

“I’ve got so much to tell you.” They both said.

“Hera!” She heard someone shout from outside the tent. Her friends charged in, Ginny and Susan wrapped her in a hug. A small explosion seemed to take place in Hera’s stomach, and she pressed her lips against both of theirs in turn.

“Aww.” Hera heard Lily say from behind her. Hera turned sheepishly.

“Oh… er… Mum, I’m gay.” Hera said.

“That’s great.” She said. “I’m bisexual.”

“Er, what’s that?” Hera asked.

“I like men and women.” She said.

“Oh, there’s a word for it.” Nora said. She had been hanging back a little, but her words drew Lily’s green eyes to her.

“Alice?” Lily asked, startled. “No…”

“My name is Nora Longbottom, Alice is my mother.”

Lily’s face split into a grin.

“That’s fantastic, we were friends at school; how is she?” Lily asked. Nora’s face darkened. Lily’s face fell.

“In St Mungo’s, she was tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange.”

“Where is Bellatrix now?” Lily was stony faced.

“Azkaban.”

“okay.” She said, and gritted her teeth.

She shook her head.

It was Remus who broke the silence.

“We should get moving back up to the castle.” He said. “These walls may have ears.”  They agreed and departed.

 

Lily lead them up to a seventh-floor corridor.

“Wait here for a second.” She said, then she walked back and forth across the same stretch of hallway three times. A door appeared. Lily motioned towards it. “In here.”

The room turned out to be something of a sitting room, similar to the Gryffindor common room. Lily sat in one of the armchairs and motioned for them to do the same.

“Lily, don’t you think Hera should go to the hospital wing?” Remus asked.

“How are you feeling?” Lily asked her.

“I’m fine.” Hera said.

“See, she’s fine; werewolf regeneration and all that.” Lily said.

“I- How do you know about that?” Hera asked.

“Like I said, long story.” She said.

 

## Lily’s years

Lily was in her fourth year Care of Magical Creatures class when she heard it. Professor Kettleburn was taking animatedly about the Kelpie he had relocated to a nearby stream for the lesson. His voice could not prevent her from hearing the rustling that went on behind her. She glanced back and saw a centaur emerging from the forest; he looked badly injured, and collapsed to the ground.

She rushed over and started inspecting his wounds. The class crowded around but Professor Kettleburn waved them back. He joined her by the centaur’s side. Lily applied pressure to a particularly large cut in his lower shoulder. Kettleburn pointed to one of the students and told them to run up to the castle for the matron.

“Listen.” The centaur said in a voice so quiet Lily could almost not hear. She leaned down. “The Huntress. Find her. Hear what she must say.”

She never found out who had killed the centaur, but one thing was for certain; whoever it was had used a wand.

 

Lily spent far too much time pouring over books in the library for someone not studying; especially in the year before her OWL’s, according to Alice.

She was sure she had searched every book in the place, but during the holidays she hit upon the idea to look in non-magical books. It was a fairly generic term, but she found it consistently linked with Artemis, the ancient Greek Goddess of the moon, wilderness, and virgins. She laughed at that last one.

 

She spent the next year saving for a trip to Greece. A ‘Post OWL vacation’ she had told everyone. She examined sites, significant locations, and asked the locals about what the dead centaur might have meant. They just seemed to laugh her off at believing the old muggle myths.

During her last week there, she finally found something, she was re-treading her path around the temple of Artemis for what seemed like the hundredth time when she saw something she previously hadn’t. A small glyph, carved inside an alcove on the landing between two staircases. It was a triangle jutting into a circle.

Lily glanced around, checking for onlookers, and surreptitiously pressed the glyph. A Stone popped out of the wall in front of her, she had been sure it had been solid marble just a few seconds ago. She grinned, she was onto something.

 

Lily had very little trouble smuggling the scroll from the compartment back into wizarding Britain. She spent most of the following term translating it from the original ancient Greek, but luckily there were plenty of translation guides in the Runes section of the library. By Christmas, she had found the Huntress.

 

She found the ingredients for the ceremony quite easily, wormwood was a standard potion ingredient, laurel leaves were kept in Slughorn’s potion store, and the forest housed some Cypress trees. She had a flicker of doubt when time came to drink the tincture, then she thought of the dying centaur’s last words, and drank.

 

She returned from her daydream and discussion with the large Wolf determined.

The Huntress’ instructions had been very clear, simple, easily followed. What hadn’t been was convincing Dumbledore she had never touched the dark arts; where usually he was all too ready to believe someone had turned over a new leaf, this time she knew it was different.

She went above and beyond in preventing any minutia of information about her skills leak to the ears of Dumbledore’s followers. She and Severus arranged a very public falling out, but kept in contact secretly.

The way she decided to accomplish her task became much easier to fake over her seventh year as James’ head deflated slowly. The most laughable part is that he was actually falling for it. He was talented, sure; but a Sorceress like her could do much better. Which she continued to do so in secret; after all, her girlfriend’s parents (and society as a whole) wouldn’t much approve.

 

Being an average boy in the eyes of society, and an obscenely wealthy tool in hers; It was really no question that she would be expected to do everything around the house, including making up the nursery for their first child.

The specified runes were easily carved into the floorboards before carpet was laid down. The crib itself baring a similar array beneath the miniature foam mattress.

It wasn’t all hard work and no play, she almost laughed out loud when James fell for the line about ‘Hera’ being her grandmother’s name.

 

Voldemort would come for them any day now, just like her real love had said, despite her and Severus’ pleading and reasoning. Although she never cared for James, she was almost sad that he would die. Lily had known that Pettigrew was the spy from their schooling days, it was very simple to figure out if you weren’t blinded by anti-werewolf prejudice, maybe if someone had a dash of psychology study, they too could figure it out. Sirius was obviously not the traitor, and once they had all left school and done some much needed soul searching, he actually became semi-pleasant to be around. She wanted to scream at him when he suggested switching secret keepers to Pettigrew without telling anyone.

If there was one person that she actually regretted keeping this secret from, it was Remus. She almost had on more than one occasion, trying to hint subtly about what he needed to do to prepare for a change; but he was still so enveloped in self-hatred that he still did his best to avoid thinking about his ‘furry little problem’ as James put it, so once it came time he hadn’t prepared.

 

After the Fidelius charm went up she stayed near baby Hera nearly 24/7, always ready to execute the ritual when Voldemort arrived.

He finally did and her heart leapt, she ran up the stairs and put Hera in her crib. She put a laurel leaf in Hera’s mouth and stuck it there with a low powered sticking charm. The charm would fail in minutes, but she didn’t need much longer.

Lily drew her wand and activated the secret ritual, it was all down to this. Lily had made some arrangements of her own, of course; but she was fully prepared to die should they fail. All the array needed was a burst of energy, such as from powerful dark magic like the killing curse.

The door burst open.

“Out of the way, silly girl.” Voldemort said.

“No.” She defied him, and she died; her soul was forcibly ejected from her body by the killing curse.

But she did not move on, she persisted in this world and clung to the lifeline she had chosen. Lord Voldemort would not notice his stowaway, nor suspect that a ’filthy mudblood’ such as her could contemplate such magic, let alone pull it off.

He entered the bounds of the circle, looking at the child of the woman he had seemingly just snuffed from existence. Voldemort once again raised his wand and uttered the killing curse. The energy of the spell was absorbed by the runic array and the main ritual of the night began.

The roof of the nursery caved in as the moonlight broke through, melting the dark lord’s body to ash. Lily was pulled this way and that, but she managed to see what Voldemort was too panicked to. The gigantic spectral wolf had appeared in the nursery, it nodded in thanks, and sunk its incorporeal teeth into Hera’s shoulder.

It would take years for Hera to receive The Huntress’ blessing.

It would take years for Lord Voldemort to return to a true body, but as soon as he found some ritual, spell, or artefact; Lily would be there to hitch a ride back to the land of the living.

 

Lily’s heart blossomed with pride when she saw Hera in the great hall nearly ten years later. But at the same time, she scowled; She hadn’t known where Dumbledore had sent her, but it was obvious it was nowhere good. She was far too short and thin.

 

As she silently clung to Voldemort’s soul, and he noisily clung to Quirrell’s, she was pulled out to the Forbidden Forest. She was shocked when Hera entered the clearing where Quirrell was drinking unicorn blood. Fear filled her, and she wanted to shout; to tell her daughter to run. She quickly realised that was not only impossible, but entirely unnecessary.

She saw her daughter change, perhaps even for the first time. If she could smile, she would have.

 

When Hera defeated Quirrell it was bittersweet. Lily was proud of her to triumph over Voldemort herself, but that also meant he would retreat and she wouldn’t see Hera again for a long time.

 

Then came this plan.

It was perfect.

The ritual required to construct a new body for Voldemort’s soul required three components. Peter Pettigrew was far from the most able servant Voldemort had ever had, but servant he was. Voldemort had journeyed with Wormtail to his father’s resting place of Little Hangleton.

It was the final component that worried her. To forcible take Hera’s blood, and then make a show of killing her would require an abduction that would not raise eyebrows for a significant portion of time.

But Voldemort had a plan for that. Peter had told Voldemort of how Hera was a werewolf, in a last-ditch attempt to get him to use someone, anyone else. To Lily’s delight, he figured out a way to separate the werewolf-ness from her essence during the ritual. Just as she had subtly drip fed him over these thirteen long years, he would use a secondary body to absorb whatever made werewolves be werewolves.

A body that she could jump to and take for herself, moulding it as she wished.

 

The ritual began. Hera had been brought here by portkey. The body of Bertha Jorkins had been tossed into the cauldron for necessary excess material.

All the ingredients were gathered and the flames around the cauldron burned high. She let go of her grip, her tether, to Voldemort, and let herself sink into the body of Bertha Jorkins. A pang of guilt ran through her, but Bertha was already dead, she silently thanked her nonetheless.

Voldemort stepped out of the cauldron, and Lily assumed complete control of the corpse. She would only be able to do this once, so she needed to get it right. She concentrated on what she thought her body might look like if she had lived through her encounter with Voldemort, up to the modern day. Perhaps she was a little generous.

 

The cracks of apparition began around the graveyard. Lily grabbed the knife from the bottom of the cauldron. Now that she had exited stasis, she had only about thirty seconds worth of air. That was more than enough.

Lily twisted gently in the cauldron and apparated herself; not far, just behind Hera’s headstone. It was time to save her daughter; again.

 

## Year 4 chapter 15

Lily recounted her own story to them. How a centaur had told her to find someone called ‘The Huntress’. How she had managed to contact her, the giant black wolf in the white void. How she had called part of her forth to this world.

“You can’t tell Dumbledore any of this.” Lily said. “I can’t tell you why just yet, but it is for his own safety that he knows nothing of it.”

Hera nodded.

“The Huntress, as she explained it to me; she’s-“ Lily started.

“She’s _the_ Werewolf.” Hera said.

“Exactly.” Lily smiled. Hera’s eyes widened with realisation. Lily was who The Huntress wanted to give the message to.

“She says ‘Thank you’, by the way.” Hera said.

“She’s most welcome.” Lily said. “The energy to bring her onto this plain without any sort of anchor required a lot of energy, which destroyed Voldemort’s original body.”

“So what Dumbledore said about blood protection was fake?” Sirius said. “Hera didn’t have to live with the Dursleys?”

“What?” Lily said, getting to her feet and bearing her teeth. “Tell me I heard wrong, Sirius; tell me you didn’t just say he sent my baby girl to live with Petunia.”

Sirius shook his head, Hera did too. For some reason she didn’t feel like throwing in her usual flippant statement about having to sleep in the cupboard under the stairs.

Lily sat down slowly. Her breathing forced and slow

“No, I need to stick to the plan.” She muttered to herself.

After a few seconds of silence, Lily spoke.

“I had wondered, when I first saw you where he had sent you.” Lily said to Hera. “You were so thin…”

Hera looked down at herself, she wasn’t really thin. Maybe muscular if you had to describe her.

“The truth is, I died.” Lily said. “But I hung onto a soul I knew would not. I tethered myself Voldemort.”

“Lily, that is extremely dark and complicated magic.” Remus said.

“Remus, you always were overly dramatic.” She said, rolling her eyes. “I didn’t possess him or anything, just held on. I was there when he was possessing Quirrel. That’s when I saw you.” She said to Hera. “And I am so proud.”

Hera smiled, heart warmed by the praise.

“Voldemort hit upon this plan, and since he did want to be a werewolf, but still wanted Hera’s supposed protection, he found a way to drain the werewolf essence into another body” Lily said. “I jumped off of him and into the corpse, used some residual energy to jumpstart and change it.”

Lily smiled.

“Since this body is where he put all the werewolf-ness, I’m a werewolf too.” Lily said. “So, what’s been happening with you, Hera?”

 

A few nights later Hera bid goodbye to Susan in the entrance hall after the post-tournament feast, where Dumbledore told the school that Voldemort was indeed back, and led the rest of her friends, Remus, and Lily out to the stone circle.

Hera was a little embarrassed that her mother would be there, truthfully. What would she think of how she acted, how she hunted? She managed to force that embarrassment down when the change came.

Her ‘pack’, as Ronan had called it earlier that year, continued to grow bigger and bigger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just for clarification, Bellatrix is ten years younger than in canon because JKR doesn't deserve to have a say in it.  
> viva la revolution


End file.
